Magic
by ArdanTheWolf
Summary: Three years after the Dawn of the Dragon, Spyro and Cynder are found and resurrected by a strange, old man. As they continue their lives together, much will change. Violence, Language, Some Explicit Content, Some Crude Humor. Originally- TLoS: Life After
1. Chapter 1: Resurrection

**Resurrection**

* * *

A lone wolf walked among the trees of a vibrant forest. Unlike most wolves, I walked upon two feet and wore clothing. I was old. Very, very old, and required use a staff to remain standing. My once-black fur was now grey and my robe was growing paler by the day.

I have been all across the world. I have seen things that most have not. They call me a storyteller, a writer, a scribe. I have been amongst dragons and elves. I have sewn tales of conflict in the deep reaches of the galaxy. I have followed men and women on their journeys to discover truth, or find vengeance.

I have gone by many names, and none for too long. Names, however, are such a trivial thing. Or, is it a crucial thing? I seem to have forgotten. Perhaps it simply does not matter. I am too old to waste my time talking, and not old enough to get lost in ramblings!

On with the story, yes. I travelled trough an ancient, enchanted forest. It was the season in fire, a good time for picking berries. They were ripe, and juicy. Ahh, I love berries. In fact, I had just finished picking them and was returning to my home. My family lived there, you see, and I needed time to think, so I picked berries. I did that quite often, you see.

Anyway, I was... oh, where are my manners! I've been talking this whole time and haven't even allowed you to tell me your name! I do apologize. I am Ardan, and you are?

...

Well?

...

Hmm, a quiet one, aren't you? You'd prefer me to simply continue with the story? Alright, then! Straight to the point. I like you!

Anyway, I had just finished picking my berries, when I stumbled upon a peculiar sight. Two young dragons, laying still in a clearing. One was female, black scales and purple tattoos. The other was purple, with golden horns and shredded wings. They each had one paw outstretched, touching the other's. The grass had grown long around them, but they remained untouched by time. It was a peaceful sight, with one tragic problem.

Neither of the dragons were breathing.

Without thinking, I dropped my basket and kneeled between the young dragons. They were both dead, but that had never been much of a problem for magicians. I had mastered the power of life-manipulation centuries ago. However, my own powers had faltered over the years. Yet, upon seeing these dragons, a rush of energy filled me, and I spoke the words.

"Mev vu kek bokara ten lifa, ben tu polara en va."

Those were the words of an ancient resurrection incantation. It translated into "May you be returned to life, by the power in me." Many mistook it for necromancy, but it most certainly was not. I was returning life, true life, to those who had it unjustly taken from them, even if I myself was not entirely sure what enabled me to do so. Intervention by the gods, perhaps? Regardless, before they awoke, I had to leave, returning home before going to see an old friend. The Fire Guardian, Ignitus.

* * *

**Twenty Minutes Later**

* * *

The young, purple dragon's eyes opened suddenly. For a moment, he had no idea who he was. Then, out of nowhere, a flood of memory rushed through his mind, bringing sudden, almost painful clarity.

* * *

"You don't need to do this!" begged Cynder, tears in her eyes. "We can go! Leave it all behind! You've already sacrificed so much, don't do this!"

"Where would we go?" asked Spyro. "There'll be nothing left! The world is falling apart, but I can stop it. It's what I'm meant to do."

"Th-then I'm with you," stated the dragoness, standing beside him. "We've come this far together."

"No, Cynder," he said. "Please, go. I need to stay behind, but you don't. Return to the world. Please."

"When I attacked you, and asked why you wouldn't fight back, you said that I was leaving you nothing to fight for. That's my reason for staying by your side. If I leave, I'll have nothing to live for." Spyro stared into her eyes. Her large, beautiful, emerald eyes. Without a thought, he moved forward and kissed her. It was quick, over almost before it began, but it was enough.

The true power of a purple dragon coursing through him, he stood. With a mighty roar, he let loose a great wave of energy, and willed the very world itself to obey. With all of his might, he pulled it together, and bound it. The last three word he heard were: "I love you."

Then, he collapsed. He had nothing left. He looked to the side, and saw Cynder beside him, on the burning ground. The energy had killed her. He had killed her.

This realization enkindled a fire in his heart. An inferno that burnt with the fury of a thousand suns. Something took control of his body, wrapping his forelegs around Cynder. His body shot into the air, flying towards the surface. He flew faster than ever before, breaking limits he didn't know existed. The thick, dry air tore his wings to shreds, but his body continued. Barely making it through to the surface, and colliding with the ground were the last memories he had. Then, only darkness.

* * *

Had the darkness been the ancestor's way of deciding whether he was worthy to join them in the heavens or rot on earth for eternity? Why had they chosen the latter? Because he failed on his... his mission as a purple dragon? They punished him with eternal damnation as a ghost among the living for not destroying his home?

Wait. He looked at his paw. He was not transparent, and could feel the weight of his arms. He felt alive, so what happened. Was this another cruel torture? Or, had he truly been spared? Of course, if that were true, then it was unlikely that the cold embrace of death, would spare two lives. And was life worth living without the person whom he loved?

What was that strange feeling? It felt like wind, but warmer, and concentrated. Breathing? But, who was breathing on him? He looked to the side, and saw a dragoness laying beside him. She had black scales and purple, runic tattoos. It was obviously Cynder, thank the Ancestors, but she seemed... different.

For instance, she was much larger. Her body was that of a fully grown dragoness, curved and toned. Her wings had nearly tripled in span, and her skin and scales were much more vibrant. What had caused this sudden change?

Suddenly, the black dragoness' eyes snapped open, and she squinted as they readjusted to the light. After a few moments, she looked over to Spyro, staring into his amethyst eyes for several moments. Neither knew what to say or do. Finally, Spyro spoke.

"C-Cynder?" he asked, in a deeper voice that even he barely recognized.

"Spyro? Y-you're alive?" she replied. Both dragons were surprised and neither understood what was going on. Why had they changed so much? How were they alive? And most importantly: What now?

Slowly, Spyro rose to his feet. He realized that he had also grown, and was nearly half the size of a Guardian. This was surprising, to say the least. What was going on? As he thought of a million questions, Cynder stood. She could not take her eyes off of the purple male. She had no idea how, but he had grown into a very handsome adult. Large, muscular, with shining, golden horns and deep, purple scales that she had never really noticed before.

"I love you," she found herself whisper, unintentionally. She silently berated herself, watching in horror as the purple dragon looked at her. She feared estrangement, alienation, even disgust. Despite his actions before their death, she assumed that the worst was to happen, and immediately wanted to melt into the shadows and escape his gaze.

Instead, the purple dragon looked to her with only kindness. His eyes were full of happiness and an emotion she could not place. It was what he had looked at her with in that brief moment between their kiss and his sacrifice. Love?

"And I love you."

* * *

**An Unknown Amount of Time After the Resurrection**

* * *

"Greetings, young sir," I said to the green dragon standing watch. "Might you be so kind as to allow an old wolf audience with a friend?"

"Perhaps," he answered. "Who are you and who's the friend?"

"Questioning a visitor to Warfang? The greatest city in existence? I simply come to pay an old friend a visit and you begin interrogating me? The audacity of it! Why, if Ignitus heard ab-"

"Calm down, old-timer," he interrupted, ever so rudely. "I'll let you in." I do believe he wasn't even looking at me at all, the entire time! Such childish disrespect! Ah, I am too old to get so worked up. My wife always tells me I need to relax or I'll hurt myself. Did I ever mention my wife? Safire? Beautiful woman, looks much younger than she really is. I probably shouldn't have said that.

Anyway, I was walking through the streets, which were quite crowded with dragons. I had not seen so many dragons in decades, at least! Perhaps I would have to catch up on recent events once I found Ignitus.

I continued on, happily observing a group of hatchlings playing on the side of the street. As I walked past, a pink dragoness came outside and scolded her children for being too loud, or some other such nonsense. She promptly told them to go inside and do their chores, remaining outside, cleaning up after them.

I aporoached her, my eyes just higher than hers. She had pink scales, gold horns, and a heart-shaped pendant. She looked up at me, smiling, likely happy that someone had approached. I could tell that she was rather stressed. Raising one child is difficult, but multiple at once?

"Hello," she greeted. "I don't suppose you're here to complain about my children's behavior?"

"Of course, not!" I replied. "I simply thought you would like a hand in cleaning up after the young ones."

"Oh, that's not necessary. Thank you for the offer, though." She continued cleaning, annoyed with the scratch marks and dirt all over her patio. The children were quite aggressive in their play.

"I insist. You must have quite enough stress already. I can see it in your eyes." Without waiting for approval, i did a few hand gestures, meant to replace words for an incantation. The dirt dissappeared, and the patio looked even better than it had in the first place.

"Wow," she said. "That's a handy trick. Mind teaching me, Mister..."

"Ardan," I responded. "And you are?"

"My name is Ember. It is a pleasure to meet you, Ardan. Would you like to sit down? You look quite tired."

"Yes, please. That would be very kind." She led me up onto a slightly elevated porch, which had a few chairs and a glass table.

"It probably seems pretty strange for dragons to have chairs, hm?" she asked, to which I chuckled.

"Over the years, I've learned to avoid questioning things that make me happy. Right now, resting my legs feels far too good for curiosity."

"That's a strange outlook," responded Ember. "Dragons are almost too curious. We have a hard time not asking questions."

"Ah, yes," I grinned. "Draconic curiosity has nearly killed me more times than I can count. Mostly that of my old friends."

"Who are they?" she asked. "Nearly every dragon within a thousand leagues lives here. There's a chance I might know them. Being a healer has that effect."

"A healer, eh? Don't suppose you could fix my knees? Damn joints have been rusty for nearly fifty years," I joked.

"That's a little out of my expertise. I'm more of a curer of disease and fresh injuries."

"Of course. Anyway, my friends are called Ignitus, Terrador, Cyril, and Volteer. Have you met them?"

Ember looked dumbfounded. "Of course I've met them! They're the Guardians! Well, at least Cyril, Volteer, and Terrador." Her face suddenly grew sad. "I'm sorry about Ignitus."

"What about him?" I asked, turning solemn. Had something happened to my best friend without anyone telling me?

"He-he's dead," she whispered. "No one told you?"

I was stunned. Ignitus, one of the most powerful fire drakes in history, was dead. And no one told me? How dare they!

"Thank you for the hospitality, Ember, but I should be going." I quickly (and rather rudely) stood and walked away without giving her a chance to speak.

* * *

"Terrador!" I roared as I opened the temple doors. All of the Guardians were resting in the courtyard. Fantastic.

"Who is it?" asked Cyril, not deigning to remember my voice. The bloated, glass-scaled cur.

"It's Ardan! You damn well know why I'm here!" Then, they all suddenly grew interested. They likely thought I was dead, or some other such nonsense.

"Ardan? It's been quite a long time!" Volteer at least seemed happy to see me. Terrador looked confused and Cyril almost seemed annoyed.

"How dare none of you inform me of Ignitus' death. He was my best friend! Not to mention the fact that we need new Guardians!"

"And who are you to-" began Cyril, before I cut him off.

"Do not forget where you stand, Wyvern. I may seem weak, but I still formed this system. I know damn well how it works and have far more authority than you!"

I calmed myself, placing both hands on my staff. I had been the Magic Guardian for over five centuries. Whenever a Guardian died, all would be replaced. The former Guardians would then serve as mentors and advisors. Since my creating this system, not one Guardian had been killed.

"Do we have any candidates yet?" I asked, very calmly.

"Three for earth, six for ice, sixteen for fire, and eleven for electricty," answered Terrador.

"And the minor elements?"

"Three for water, two for air, and four for energy," responded Cyril.

"Have we any for the dark elements?"

"We had one possibility, but she was killed nearly three years ago." Volteer seemed to be the most upset about this fact out if the three.

"Hmm. And... have you three seen a purple dragon?" I already knew the answer, but wanted to know what they would say.

"Yes. He died with the dark dragoness. They sacrificed themselves to kill Malefor." Terrador tried as hard as he could to not allow any emotion through, but it was in vain. The sadness on his face was unmistakable.

"Well, that may not be entirely true," I told them, vaguely. "Seven leagues to the east. Possibly moved by now. They can't have gotten too far." Without allowing them to question me, I vanished.

* * *

**-ArdanTheWolf**


	2. Chapter 2: Return

**Return**

* * *

It had only been a few hours since they were woken. The season of fire was upon them, as shown by the heavy rain, in place of snow. It was pouring, and Spyro was lucky to have found a cave. Fire dragons, purples included, reacted notoriously poorly to rain. Luckily, Spyro seemed to have only inherited the one fear. He suspected that, if he had the inherent fears of every element, he'd have been a nervous wreck. Cynder followed him into the cave, unsure of what to expect. Every cave she'd ever been in was less than hospitable.

The result was a massive and surprisingly clean cave. It was sheltered, spacious, and the entrance was well-concealed. They had only found it through dumb luck when looking for an overhang as shelter. The result of their search was an excellent plce to get some proper rest.

Spyro fell almost instantly, thanking the ancestors for the sweet comfort of dry ground. He was an expert in flight, but walking long distances was certainly not something he enjoyed, despite his earth dragon self.

Cynder then lay down next to him, much more gracefully. They had not spoken since his confession, and she had a million things to say racing through her head. Instead, she simply nestled against the slightly larger dragon, placing her head under his. Spyro was hesitant at first, but quickly relaxed and draped his wing over the dark dragoness.

"This is... comfortable," she mused. "It's nice, being here."

"Here?" asked the purple dragon, confused. Here, as in the cave?

"Alive," she clarified. "In Avalar. The weight of the world not on our shoulders anymore. Here." Spyro was surprised. He had known her for years, even though the majority was spent in stasis. However, throughout that entire time, she had never expressed much, if any, love for life. She had always been somewhat depressed, no matter how hard he tried to shield her from the world's scorn.

As he thought on the topic, his mind wandered through all the times someone had been cruel to her and, in turn, infuriated him. One in particular was the Cheetah they had found after rescuing Meadow. The insane hermit wasted no time in bringing up her past, calling her evil and forcing her to remember what would happen if Malefor ever found her. Upon seeing the dragoness' face, Spyro nearly allowed his anger to get the better of him.

However, the purple dragon had grown very strong in the realm of controlling his rage. Very few things could push him over the edge. However, if anything were to happen to Cynder, if anyone were to _hurt_ her, Spyro knew what would happen. Convexity would overpower him, and a lot of people would die. He would _never_ let that happen.

"I love you," he whispered. "I'll never let anything happen to you again." Without responding, Cynder simply snuggled up as close as she could to Spyro, closing her eyes. Spyro found his eyes growing heavy as well, and they began to close. The last thing he heard before drifting off was Cynder's response.

"I know."

* * *

That night had been one of the best either dragon ever had. It was pure, blissful _sleep_, with no nightmares or fears. Being able to let their guards down for the first time was an amazing feeling, especially for Cynder, who had never once been able to do so.

It was early the next morning, and they were still asleep. Outside the cave, the guardians were searching fervently for any sign of the two dragons. Terrador was leading the search, using his power over the earth to find anywhere they might be. He knew that it had just been raining, which Spyro would have hated. That means he would have spent the night in a cave.

"Perhaps that senile, old fool has no idea what he's talking about," growled Cyril, though he hoped it was true. "Three years without appearance and we are to believe that they live?" The blue dragon was skeptical about the wolf, as he was actually Ardan's senior, unlike Terrador or Volteer.

This angered Volteer, which not many things cold do. The old scientist was usually either calm or very excited, but negative emotions certainly weren't normal for him. He turned and growled at Cyril.

"If there is a _chance_ that they are still out here," he roared, "I will not _rest_ until they are _found_!" Cyril was taken aback by Volteer's rage. He had never seen his friend so consumed by anything, even his experiments. There was likely something he was not telling anyone, but the elder guardian did not dare ask. He had only ever seen him angry once, near the beginning of the war, and it had been rater intimidating. Even frightening.

"_Shut up_," growled Terrador, "both of you. I think I've found something." He motioned toward a very small cave entrance, concealed by vines and other foliage. Even the earth dragon had a hard time finding it. He looked towards his electric companion. "Volteer, you are the smallest of us. Would you like to search the cave?"

Volteer nodded enthusiastically, before heading to the cave entrance. The brush had been recently trampled, meaning that someone was in there recently. Hopefully, they were still there. He attempted to move in, trying to squeeze through the hole that was just a bit too small for him. However, he was determined. With a strong push, he threw himself through the gap, cutting his side in the process. It wasn't bad, but it hurt quite a bit.

What he saw in the cave made him happier than he'd been in a long time. Spyro and Cynder were there, cuddled together, alive and well. They were both asleep, but were likely to wake any moment. Volteer simply sat and waited in silence.

Spyro was the first to awaken, followed quickly by Cynder. They were both slightly confused, but quickly remembered where they were. They quickly looked at each other, and stared into each other's eyes. They were happy to see each other, happier than they'd ever been. However, it came as a surprise when Cynder noticed a third dragon in the cave.

"Spyro!" she exclaimed, jumping to her feet. The purple dragon turned and assumed a combat stance in an instant. Unlike Cynder, he had trained for years on things such as this. She had been tortured into remembering it for most of her life, but he knew it by heart through endless practice. Thus, she was a moment slower in her stance.

Spyro's eyes adjusted almost instantly to the dark, to identify his opponent. When he saw who it was he nearly burst out laughing. He ran towards the larger dragon, embracing him.

"Volteer!" he shouted, ecstatic upon seeing the older dragon's face. He had been worried that he'd never see the guardian again. Luckily, he had been very wrong. Cynder quickly realized who it was, and did exactly what Spyro had. Volteer had been kinder to her than any of the guardians, even Ignitus.

"It is so good to see you two!" laughed the guardian. "Alive and well, too. It is a miracle! Why, I must consult the libraries to see what could have caused this miraculous return. Fantastic!" His eyes nearly glowed with happiness, sparks dancing off of his scales.

"It's good to see you too," responded Spyro and Cynder in unison. Cynder was surprised, she had never truly been happy to see anyone except Spyro. Malefor had twisted her mind enough to make her almost enjoy seeing him, but it, of course, was never real. She had hated him with ever bit of sanity she had during that time.

"Oh my," gasped Volteer, interrupting Cynder's thoughts, "you two look terrible!" He drew their attention to their bodies, which had just begun to show signs of injury and hunger. While their more severe injuries had been healed, he was still bruised and scratched, which was beginning to show. Te same went for Cynder, whose old scars were beginning to reopen.

"What the-" exclaimed Spyro. "These injuries weren't here when we woke up!"

"Do not worry," said Volteer, "I believe that whatever revived you may just be showing a few side-effects. We will get you to Warfang, and to a healer. All will be well, young ones."

As they exited the cave, Volteer saw that Cyril and Terrador had left, likely having returned to the temple. He harbored no resentment towards them, however. Being a guardian allowed almost no time away. They likely had more important duties to attend to. Perhaps Terrador had even felt the vibrations inside the cave and knew that he had found them.

"I hope Serian remembered to take those vials off," muttered Volteer. "Otherwise, we'll have to rebuild the temple again."

* * *

After walking several miles, Spyro and Cynder began to look worse. Bruises and cuts covered their bodies and they appeared very sick. Volteer thanked the Ancestors upon seeing the walls of Warfang.

They approached the gate, and the guard snapped to attention. Normally, he was terrible at his job. Upon seeing someone of authority, however, he became completely professional. Without a word, he opened the gate, allowing Volteer and the two younger dragons in.

It didn't take long to reach the clinic. As they walked, loud streets became quiet. Crowds parted. Everyone, even hatchlings, knew who the purple dragon was. No one dared say a word, but showed respect through silence. Upon reaching their destination, Volteer looked back and addressed the crowd that had formed behind them.

"Everyone, go back to your business. There is nothing to see here!" The crowd obeyed, returning to their routines. However, Volteer did pick up words like "Spyro", "purple", "Cynder", and "returned". He led the two into the clinic, hoping that their best healer was there.

"Ember!" he called. "Are you here?" Almost instantly, the pink dragoness' head poked out of a door. She walked towards the Golden dragon, smiling. Spyro's eyes went wide upon seeing his old friend. She had grown exponentially, but he estimated that she was still shorter than Cynder. Her pink scales were deeper and more vibrant than before, and her golden horns shone with an internal glow, like most adult fire dragons. All in all, she had become a beautiful dragoness. But, in his eyes, she was nowhere near the beauty that was right next to him.

"Hello, Volteer!" she greeted the guardian, cheerfully. "Was one of your assistants injured again?"

"No," responded Volteer. "This is different. A rather extreme case of healing deterioration." It was an effect caused by massive, sudden use of a healing spell or large intake of life crystals. The injuries averted by the healing would develop over time, later on. This effect was usually negated by adrenaline, as life gems were usually consumed in battle. However, resurrection was very difficult to fix without medical care. Long ago, before medicine, resurrection was a banished art, as deterioration would kill the revived individual in days, if not hours. It was considered cruel.

"Who's the victim?" she asked, no less cheery. She was an optimist, Ember. Very few things could upset her. Volteer lead her into the waiting room, and she saw her patients. First, she noticed the black dragon. A very rare breed, exciting. Volteer would probably like to run a few tests later.

Then, she saw the purple male. She had met him before, several years ago. She remembered being completely obsessed with him for a while. However, as time progressed, their relationship had transformed into solid, simple friendship. She approached the purple dragon, observing his injuries.

"S-Spyro?" she whispered. He had been dead for years; she couldn't be sure if this was real. One of her best friends, back from the grave? For the second time?

"Hello, Ember," he replied, in a raspy voice. "It's good to see you again." Ember laughed, a tear running down her face as she realized this wasn't a dream. She quickly lead the two dragons to a room, to address their wounds.

"Now, this should be easy," she informed them as she went rustling through the cupboards, looking for something. She returned after a moment, holding four vials. Two contained a glowing, blue liquid and the others contained a deep, purple liquid.

"This is pure, adrenaline potion," she said, handing them the blue liquid. "It will stop any more injuries from appearing. However, it may cause a few reactions. Hopefully, they'll be the good kind. If not, we always have tranquilizers."

Spyro gulped, unsure of what Ember was saying. He stated at the vial, and noticed that Cynder had already drank hers. In an effort to not appear weak or timid in front of her, he quickly did the same. Even while not officially courting, his male instincts had started to kick in.

For a few moments, nothing happened. Then, he began to sweat. Energy filled his body and he had a strong desire to run, jump, and fly. It took all of his strength to stay put. Still, he began blinking rapidly and drumming his paws against the floor.

Cynder, on the other hand, felt two contradicting sensations. One was an urge to fight, kill, survive. The sensations she had felt as the Terror of the Skies. She wanted to get out of there, to fight her way out of there. The other was one that she had not felt before. She began to sweat, and had a strong urge to do... something strange. She looked back to what she had read while under Malefor (who had allowed her one hour each day to educate herself on subjects other than fighting). After a few moments of thinking, she came up with the emotion. Lust.

Both of the dragons felt their respective sensations for a few moments, not noticing as Ember fed them the second vials. They were healing potions, to fix their wounds. They were much less powerful than life crystals, but their healing deterioration reaction was not nearly as powerful and would quickly be eliminated by the adrenaline. Plus, life crystals were just rare.

Once the effects subsided, the dragons immediately felt better. Spyro's bruises faded and Cynder's scars closed. They were still sore, but didn't feel themselves deteriorating, like before.

"Thank you," said Spyro. "This feels much better."

"It's no problem. I'm always here to help." She turned to Cynder, who instantly looked away. She remembered setting her forces to attack Ember, once. "Don't worry. We've all been given plenty of time to forgive. Everyone knows that the good you did overshadows the bad."

Cynder was stunned by the pink dragoness' words. She smiled, a rare occurence. Had people truly forgiven her for the horrors she brought on the world? Were people really able to forget all the people she had hurt? Killed? Tears ran down her face, she had rarely ever been this happy.

"Thank you," she whispered. Ember just nodded, before turning back to Spyro. She was about to speak, when a small hatchling walked into the room. She was a teal dragon, with blue wing membranes and armor scales. Her massive, green eyes dominated her face.

"Mommy, the man down the hallway needs more medicine," she said. "He's crying again.

"The one with the burning wings?" asked Ember, in a gentle voice.

"Yes."

"Get the orange medicine from the far left cupboard in my office. I'll be right there." The tiny dragoness nodded enthusiatically, running out of the room. Ember turned back, looking rather embarrassed.

"Who's the lucky guy?" asked Spyro, smiling. Ember would have slapped him, were he not injured.

"Flame," she responded, after several moments. "Just a month after the war, we... er... became mates." Spyro was surprised. The red dragon was a hell of a fighter, but had always been quite timid, especially around Ember. Two of his best friends, mated?

"Wow," he responded, "congratulations." He searched for a way to change the subject. "Why's she blue?"

"All water dragons are blue," answered Ember, "regardless of genetics. Minor elements like water, air, and energy resist the laws of science. People randomly develop them, regardless of their parents' scales or elements. Kind of like purple dragons."

"Let me guess, Volteer taught you that?" asked Spyro, a smile on his face.

"Well, it's not like Terrador had anything interesting to teach anymore," she responded, jokingly. "If you have any patience, Volteer's lessons can be fascinating! Besides, I wouldn't be the most renowned healer in Warfang without him. Now, I've got to get back to it, catch up with you later, Spyro!"

With that, the pink dragoness was gone. Spyro looked at Cynder, and they both began to laugh. At first, it was light, but it soon progressed into full-blow hysteria. The laughing lasted for several minutes, until they noticed someone standing in the door.

It was Cyril, the ice guardian himself. He smiled at the young dragons, who regained their composure and bowed in respect. Cyril, for once, completely disregarded tradition and embraced both of them, trying not to cry in joy. Spyro was like a son to him, and Cynder a daughter. In the forest, he had doubted their return due to his distrust of Ardan. However, seeing them alive again, wanted to take back everything. Perhaps the old wolf was not as bad as he thought.

"We never thought we'd see you two again," said the guardian. "When I heard the news, I came as fast as I could. We have set up a gift for both of you, if you would come with me."

Spyro and Cynder followed the guardian through the streets, and Spyro was delighted to see so many dragons living so happily. Over the years, he had met many, but this was amazing. They were a community, not just an army. He was so busy looking around, that he bumped into Cyril as the larger dragon stopped.

"Welcome home," said the guardian as he moved to the side, revealing their gift. It was a house. No, a mansion. The house was one of the largest he'd ever seen. It was at least twice the size of any of the others. "We have another one for you, Cynder, unless there's anything you two would like to tell me?" A knowing look spread across his face.

Well, looks like it was as obvious as Spyro thought it was. "We-we would like to live together," stated Cynder, reluctantly. Spyro agreed, and Cyril nodded.

"Just as I suspected," responded Cyril. "You two were made for each other. Ignitus would be very proud." With that, Cyril walked away, leaving the younger dragons alone to explore their new home. After a moment's hesitation, they walked through the doors.

* * *

They spent all day looking through their new home. Notable areas included a gigantic living-room, a training room, a balcony, and a beautiful bedroom with a huge, circular bed. Cynder giggled lightly upon seeing the size of the bed, and whispered something to Spyro that literally turned his face bright red.

By the time they were done, it was getting very late. The sun had gone down, and the stars were out. The dragons were just about to retire when there was a knock at the door. They hadn't expected any visitors, but it was likely going to be a common occurrence. Being the saviors of the world made them... popular.

Spyro got the door, revealing Flame and Ember. "Hi," they both greeted, smiling. It was quite a sight, the fully grown couple, whom he had last seen nearly eight years ago. He greeted them and let them in.

"Damn!" exclaimed Flame. "Nice place!" He had certainly changed since last they met. He was now just a bit smaller than Spyro himself, but was far more muscular. A golden spike was now protruding from his chin, a very rare occurrence.

"I know," responded the purple dragon, "we're still exploring it."

"Mind if you show me around?" asked Flame, to which Spyro nodded. The red dragon turned to his mate. "Wanna come, Ember?"

"Nah, I think I'll just stay up here. Knowing you two, you'll probably end up making a mess, and I don't want to share the blame." Cynder giggled at this, startling Flame. He hadn't noticed the black dragoness.

"Hi, Cynder," he waved. "It's been awhile. Of course, we didn't exactly separate on pleasant terms. It's good to see you on our side." Cynder nodded, glad to see that Spyro's friends accepted her.

"You wanna come, Cynder?" asked Spyro. Honestly, he hoped that she would say no. Leaving Ember alone up here would just be rude, and he wanted to catch up with Flame in a way that required no inhibitions.

"No, you two go do your thing. I'm getting a little tired, anyway." She was lying, of course. She just wanted to have a real conversation with another dragon besides Spyro or a Guardian. Ember seemed like the a good person. Maybe they could become real friends.

"Alright. See you later." With that, he and Flame descended down the stairs. Ember and Cynder remained in the living room.

* * *

"It has been too damn long!" exclaimed Flame. "It feels like I barely know you anymore. How've you been?"

"Oh, y'know," responded Spyro, "saving the world again. Killing Malefor. Dying. Same old Spyro." Flame couldn't stop himself from laughing, happy to hear that Spyro still had a sense of humor, at least.

"Yeah. Feels like all I've been doing for the past three years is teaching."

"Teaching?" asked Spyro. "What could you possibly teach?"

"Self-defense and use of the fire element. I'm actually a candidate for fire guar..." he trailed off, remembering Spyro's close relationship with Ignitus.

"It's fine, Flame," said Spyro. "I'm past mourning."

"Alright," responded the red dragon, "I'm a candidate for becoming the next Fire Guardian. I'll actually be fighting Ember for it, which will be interesting, to say the least." He chuckled lightly. "She'll kick my ass."

"I'll bet," replied Spyro. "Let's just hope your kids still have a dad by the end of it. How many do you have?"

"Four," answered Flame. "Three girls and a boy. Ember says you met Serina, our little water dragon. There's also Emma, Cyra, and Spyro."

"You named your son after me?" asked Spyro.

"Who else? You're my best friend, man! When coming up with a name, yours was the first one I thought."

* * *

Ember and Cynder were completely bored. While the males were downstairs, likely beating each other up, they were upstairs, in complete silence. Surprisingly, Cynder was the one to initiate conversation.

"So," she began, "you're a doctor, huh?"

"No, a healer," Ember corrected, "doctors do surgeries and that sort of thing, I just heal wounds and diseases."

"I'm pretty good at healing," she said. "Of course, it's just Spyro who says that. I had to splint his broken leg, once."

"You didn't have any life gems?" asked Ember.

"This was at the temple. Terrador broke his leg during training, and Spyro had to learn to live without gems, since they're becoming a commodity."

"Hm, sounds like him. Always a bit of a hardass, Terrador. I've always preferred learning from Volteer. He's brilliant."

"Yeah, he was like a dad to me while I was at the temple. He taught me how to use my elements, more or less. He also helped teach me all the things that... I couldn't learn before."

"Did he ever play chess with you?" asked Ember. "He does that a lot. Just to demonstrate how intelligence impacts tactics and changes battles."

"Yeah, we played a few matches. It took me forever to beat him." Ember was silent for a moment, stunned.

"Bull. Shit." The pink dragoness couldn't believe that anyone could beat Volteer at chess. "No one's beaten him in years."

"Then I guess I was the last one. You want to play a game?"

"You're on."

* * *

"A training room?" exclaimed Flame. The room was complete with a sparring ring, samples of the elements, and even weapons. The red dragon looked at Spyro. "You know what we have to do now, don't you?"

"Fight?"

"Hell, yes!" exclaimed Flame. "Can't have you getting fat, can we?" He chuckled, stepping into the ring.

"What will Ember think when you get beaten up and need healing?"

"Hey, now," said Flame. "Which one of us is the guy who has a healer for a mate?. What's Cynder gonna do when you get all bruised?"

"Probably add to them," Spyro joked, before entering the ring with his friend. He knew that Flame couldn't compete. When he was just twelve, Spyro could fight all four guardians at once. His skills certainly hadn't deteriorated. He assumed his stance, a relaxed position that would allow for almost any reaction, of needed.

Flame took a very aggressive, locked stance. Being a fire dragon, he didn't have much of a sense of versatility. He would mostly just rush in, head first. On the count of three, they shot towards each other.

* * *

"Check-mate," stated Cynder, triumphantly.

"How did you even do that?" asked Ember, amazed. She had never seen someone play that well.

"I learn quickly. You were playing aggressively, moving all of your pawns out first. All I needed was a rook and two bishops." Cynder was generally a rather serious person, but she did truly enjoy beating people at games of intellect.

"Well, that was very impressive," said Ember. "You're a shrewd tactician, Cynder. You know, there are still occasional problems inside the city. We have an unofficial guard, and I think you would do well to try and become the captain."

"Really?" asked Cynder. "Why is that?"

"Well," began Ember, "I understand that you hate your past, and I do too, but we both know that you were an excellent commander, regardless of what side you fought for. I know that the skills you just demonstrated are from those days. We need someone with that knowledge to lead our militia, regardless of whether or not we ever need to actually use it."

Cynder thought about what the pink dragoness said. It was horrible to admit, but some of the old, evil dragoness was still there, even of it was just knowledge. She would likely be more suited in leading a militia or guard than any other dragon, besides maybe Terrador.

"And you think people would actually accept me, leading another force?" asked the black dragoness. "After the last one I lead was-"

"Don't think about that," chided Ember, gently, "everyone in this city knows that you were being controlled. You and Spyro are legends, and we all can see that the good you've done outweighs the bad, one-hundredfold."

"Thank you," responded Cynder, realizing that Ember truly meant what she said earlier. She really did believe that Cynder had been redeemed. "I suppose I'll try it."

"Damn!" exclaimed Flame. "You've still got it!" The red dragon had a very bruised side, several cuts, and a black eye. Spyro, on the other hand, was barely touched. They had been fighting for nearly half an hour, and the purple dragon had only been toying with his opponent.

"What'd you expect?" asked Spyro. "I had to fight things you'd run away at the sight of!" Flame laughed sarcastically, punching his friend in the arm.

"Asshole," muttered Flame. "Do you have any life gems around?" he asked.

"No, but you have a 'healer for a mate'," mocked Spyro, "ask her for help."

"You know I can't let her see me like this!" exclaimed Flame. "Let alone my kids!"

"I'm sure Ember will understand. And just tell your kids that uncle Spyro kicked your ass. You're the one who started it, anyway!"

"Fine," grunted Flame, defeated. "It was a good fight, though."

"That, it was," replied Spyro. "A part of me misses sparring. Out there, fighting is survival. In here, it's a competition."

"I hear you. You should try becoming a guardian. Since Ignitus died, they're replacing all of them. They say that a new generation would be better suited to deal with today's hardships and, since almost all of the fighters in the war have recently passed into adulthood, it's time."

"Really?" asked Spyro. "What guardian would I be suited as?"

"I hear there's actually a fifth one that was off fighting and couldn't return to the temple for years. A magic guardian. Maybe that'd be the best choice. There are only two candidates, I believe."

"Hmm, I'll think about it," responded Spyro. "But, for now, we should probably focus on getting you to Ember." With that, Spyro helped Flame walk, out of the room and up the stairs.

* * *

"Damn it, Flame!" exclaimed Ember, swatting her mate on the back of the head. "I knew you'd challenge Spyro. You should know better!"

"Sorry, mom," muttered Flame. "I was hoping that all of my time training would help. Sorry, babe. I'd lie and say it won't happen again, but..."

"We all know that's a lie," finished Spyro, who couldn't contain his laughter. He stopped when Ember gave him a cold glare.

"Well, we should go," stated Ember, taking Flame from Spyro. "It was nice talking to you, Cynder." She walked her mate over to the door. "Goodbye!" she said, before walking out.

"You have some strange friends," examined Cynder, to which Spyro simply nodded, chuckling.

"Yes, I do."

* * *

-ArdanTheWolf


	3. Chapter 3: Revelations

**Revelations**

* * *

Clichés abound in this chapter! A cliché for you, and one for you! You want a cliche, too? Here ya go!

* * *

Spyro's eyes slowly opened, adjusting to the dim light shining through the large, curtained windows. At first, he wondered where he was. He last remembered falling asleep in a cave, then...

Oh, yes. He quickly realized that he was in his new home, on his new bed. Looking to the his side, he realized that Cynder was snuggled against his flank. They were cuddled together as comfortably as the previous night, and the purple dragon would have it no other way. Being able to wake up beside her every morning was definitely something he could get used to.

After a few moments, the black dragoness began to wake, as well. Her emerald eyes shone with the reflection of the bright, morning sun. She immediately turned to Spyro, smiling as she stared into his eyes. What Cyril had said the previous morning rang true, these young dragons were born for each other.

"Good morning," whispered Spyro as he nuzzled the dragoness. "Did you sleep well?"

"Of course," she replied, repeating the action. "This bed is very comfortable. And you are very warm." She gave him a wide smile, displaying her happiness. She loved having a real house, not a temple quarters or a dungeon cell. She had never been able to truly call a place home. Now, she could.

* * *

"So, this is Warfang?" asked the young wolf, Orion, who was following me distantly. A naive one, but strong in body and magic. His fur was brown, unlike his father's or my own. His eyes were green and he bore the mark of the Druid. This rare sign allowed him to interact with nature and her creations in ways that others, even magic users, could never dream of.

"Indeed," replied his father. "I brought you and your mother here with Ardan when you were a mere pup." The father, Arius had bright red fur and was a pyromancer. This obviously meant that he had a special affinity with fire and other forms of heat energy. He was an aggressive and even brutish male at times, but showed endless affection for his mate, my daughter.

She was Sorya, was a blue hydromancer. She was always rather quiet, but I always knew that she was a kind, young woman. Of course, fathers are not always the best judges of their children's character.

"Quiet, you two," exclaimed Safire, my wife. She had the same blue fur as her daughter, but her eyes were a rich green, like her grandson's. Like Arius, she had been born a natural, four-legged wolf, but was transformed by myself after we had both agreed. Transfiguration, unlike most magics, required the subject's consent. Unlike Arius, however, she had spent long enough as our kind, or an Otherwolf, to lose her old instincts and aggression. Now, she was a calm, wise woman.

As we approached the gate, I sighed upon seeing the guard. It was the same one who had shown insolence the first time. He stepped forward, to the glass shielding him. Sirius was his name, slightly ironic. This guard was the exact opposite of 'serious,' at least, when it came to his job.

"Hello, again," I greeted. "This time, I'm here to stay."

"You'll need to provide a resident relative or the necessary contribution to live within the gates. Empty houses are becoming rare, I'm sorry for any inconvenience." The lines were so rehearsed it was cringe-worthy. He showed no inflection whatsoever, not even deigning to look up.

"Actually, I already have a house here," I stated, forcing myself to remain calm. "I am to live in the temple, with the other guardians. My family is to reside with me until a later date." A real smile appeared on my lips as the foolish dragon looked up, surprise on his face.

"The guardians?" he asked. "Who are you, exactly?"

"My name is on that list you misplaced three hours ago. It is in the third drawer to your left." The dragon looked in the drawer and, true to my word, the list of expected visitors was there. He examined the list slowly, and his eyes grew wide.

"Magic Guardian Ardan and his family," read the guard, "are to reside in the temple until further notice. Note: they are wolves. Don't you turn them away, Sirius." He looked up from the paper, quickly fixing his composure. "I am truly sorry, sir. You can go right ahead." I nodded, laughing almost hysterically on the inside. The gate opened, and I led my family into the city.

"Take this road straight. It leads directly to the temple. Find one of the Guardians, they'll show you to our rooms." Ardan was obviously in a hurry for something.

"Where are you going?" asked Safire.

"I need to speak with the purple dragon," I answered. "It is urgent." With that, I kissed Safire quickly, and nearly sprinted down the road. My knees were killing me the entire time.

* * *

I knocked on the door. After a few moments, it opened, revealing Ember. She seemed surprised to see me again, but pleased, nonetheless.

"Hello, Ardan," she greeted cheerily, "You seem a bit rushed, what's the problem."

"Would you happen to know if a purple dragon was brought here recently?" I asked.

"Spyro?" she responded, "Yeah, he came to the city yesterday morning. Why?"

"Do you know where I can find him?" asked the wolf.

"Yeah, he lives down the road. Just follow the street down a bit, and you'll come to a square. His house is the big one in the center opposite side." I nodded, thanked her, and took off.

* * *

"What to do today?" mused Spyro. Now that they weren't obligated to save the world, it seemed like there were no expectations. He would soon attempt to become a guardian, but that was months away. He had to keep in shape. Regardless, he loved spending time with Cynder, even more so when they were actually doing something.

"Perhaps a bit of hunting?" suggested Cynder. "I'm getting pretty hungry." Spyro agreed; he was famished. Not eating for three years would do that. He still remembered eating two elks whole after escaping the crystal and still being hungry.

"Then that's what we'll do," responded Spyro. He slowly removed himself from the bed, realizing that he and Cynder's tails were wrapped tightly around each other's. They both turned red momentarily, attempting to uncoil their tails. The moment they were separated, there was another knock at the door. Spyro sighed, but still went to get it.

Their visitor was... different. A very old looking wolf who walked on two feet and wore a robe stood in their doorway. He bowed to Spyro before speaking.

"It is an honor to meet you, young Master Spyro. I am called Ardan, the Magic Guardian. May I come in?" Spyro was dumbfounded. The guardian Flame spoke of was not a dragon, but some form of wolf? Surprising, to say the least.

"Y-yes, come in," replied Spyro. "Make yourself at home." The wolf smiled, entering. He sat down on one of the large couches, obviously made for a dragon. Spyro laid on the one opposite him. Cynder did the same, right next to the purple dragon.

"Ah, I remember you, young dragoness," said Ardan, smiling, "though I have yet to learn your name."

"I am Cynder," she replied, confused, "how do you remember me?"

"Were you not told?" asked Ardan, to which both dragons confusedly shook their heads. "I am the one who restored your lives."

Both if the young dragons' eyes went wide. They knew that they had been mysteriously resurrected, but had no idea how, or by whom. Now, this man showed up at their door, not only claiming to be a Guardian, but their savior. Stranger things had happened, yes, but it was still a lot to take in.

"You-you saved us?" asked Spyro, not entirely sure if he had heard the wolf correctly.

"Indeed. I found you two in a clearing, dead. I breathed life into you using ancient magic, using energy I had thought long lost to me. Strangely, neither of you showed signs if deterioration. I assume that both of your natural powers protected your bodies, but I'd like to speak to Volteer about it, later."

As he finished speaking, there was another knock at the door. Ardan stood, bowing his head lightly.

"Well, speak of the devil. I'll get the door, if I may." Spyro nodded, and Ardan turned, walking to the door. He opened it, revealing the golden dragon he had just spoken of.

"You wanted to see me?" asked Volteer.

"Indeed," replied Ardan. He turned, and saw Spyro and Cynder's confused faces. "All Guardians are given several objects infused with magic, giving them special abilities. One, is a necklace that allows us to communicate telepathically over short distances."

"Interesting objects, these," continued Volteer. "Able to shield us from ungodly amounts of damage and makes us near invulnerable to each other's elemental powers." He stopped talking, looking to the wolf. "Why have you summoned me, Ardan? Surely it is not to inform these young dragons on guardian charms?"

"It is not, my friend. I'm sure you know what I brought you here to speak of. There is a new chronicler, who wishes to commune with Spyro. It is only fair that you do the same with Cynder."

Volteer's eyes went wide, and his trademark excitement faded. Ardan pit his had on the guardian's neck and gave a friendly smile. "You've done well over the war, my friend. I know it pained you, but you can speak, now."

Volteer looked up, stepping closer to Cynder. He looked down at her, and a single tear ran down his face. "How long I've wanted to tell you the truth, young one," he whispered. "It has pained me to not have been able to."

"What are you talking about?" asked Cynder.

"I..." he tried to speak, but he choked on his words for the first time. After several moments, he looked Cynder in the eyes and told her the truth. "I am your father."

The black dragoness' eyes went wide and her mouth opened. She stepped back, and her legs began to wobble. "Y-you're my... my... father?" She stared at the gold dragon for a few more seconds, before tears began running down her face. She leaped forward, embracing the guardian.

"You're not angry?" asked Volteer. "I thought you would be furious at being kept from the truth for so long."

"Of course I'm not angry," said Cynder, in between sobs. "You couldn't risk emotions getting in the way during the war. I understand. Knowing how much that must have hurt, being mad at you would be cruel."

Volteer was stunned for a few moments, before returning Cynder's hug, tears of his own running down his face. Spyro and Ardan watched the reunited family, Ardan in happiness and Spyro in shock.

"Y-you said a new chronicler wants to talk to me?" asked Spyro, looking to Ardan. The wolf nodded.

"Yes, but we should wait until they are done"

Ten minutes passed until the dragons were composed again. Their eyes were red from tears of joy, and they were smiling wider than either had in years. To Volteer, it felt like the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders.

"Alright," exclaimed Ardan, "we have one revelation out of the way. Now, onto the next." He kneeled, pressing his knuckles together and assuming a meditative position.

"Verien rok, lavis nieren vor kiuren bex." As he spoke, the room grew darker, and a glowing, blue mist emanated from the wolf's maw. The mist began to expand, taking shape. At first, the rough shape of an elder dragon. It slowly began to grow more detailed. First, the tail. Then, the body, slowly expanding to the wings. Then, finally, the face. The colors began to change, certain parts becoming darker, others lighter, some turning pure white.

"I-Ignitus?" asked Spyro, stunned. "Is it really you?"

"Yes, Spyro," responded the old guardian. "I yet live on as the chronicler of this age. With the Era of Darkness beset by the Dawn of the Dragon, our time has begun. The Age of the Dragons is upon us, and with it comes many changes."

"What changes?" asked Spyro. "What do you mean? I have so many questions!"

"I know, young one, I know. You have always been full of questions, having to learn everything about everything. The answers to those two will come with time. Just know that none of these changes will bring harm or impact your life in a negative way. Your troubles are over, Spyro. Your duty is finished, and you may live life as you see fit now.

"But, perhaps I should address some of your many questions. I can see in your eyes that you seek the knowledge that Cynder was just provided. It is a fair desire, but you must swear that you will not grow angry with the answer I give."

"I swear," stated Spyro, suddenly.

"Very well. Do you remember my last words to you? I told you as Cynder that I had never done right by you, and that my last wish was to get you out safely?"

"Yes."

"When I said that, I meant keeping great secrets from you. The identity of your fathers, the truth about purple dragons, the very real consequences of being touched by covexity. Everything I had refused to tell you.

"Spyro, I am your father. Your mother's name was Severia, an Ice dragoness of the north. She was, sadly, killed by Malefor on the same day that the hatcheries were attacked. Se sacrificed herself so that I could bring you to safety."

"I was devastated when I heard," Volteer interrupted. "Hearing that I had lost both a goof friend and my daughter on the same day nearly killed me."

"Losing my mate nearly did the same to I, my friend," replied Ignitus. "But, alas, life must go on. I brought you to the dragonflies, who took care of you until we could begin formal training.

"Sending you to fight Cynder, knowing that it would result in an innocent dragon's death. It was one of the most difficult thing's I've ever had to do. Volteer, I remember your reaction upon hearing that Malefor's commander was your mind-controlled daughter."

Volteer's head hung as he recalled the feeling. "I was nearly sent into a fury. I wanted to gut Malefor and slaughter his forces, then and there. Had Terrador not restrained me, I might have destroyed the temple."

"So, I was the cause of all this pain?" asked Spyro. "My mother dying, you needing to lie to me, Volteer having to train me to kill his own daughter?"

"Don't ever say that," chided Ignitus. "You're nineteen years of age and have saved the world three times. You have fought the darkest powers in the universe, have even had them put inside of you, and have emerged victorious. No other dragon in history has achieved what you did. Never think, even for a second, that you have caused pain. Never has there been a purer soul in this world."

Ardan grunted, blood dripping from his nose. Spells like this were difficult to use for even a moment. Extended periods of time could hurt and even kill the caster.

"I wish we could speak longer, Spyro," stated Ignitus, a despaired look on his face. "Know that I love you, and your mother looks down on you with pride in her heart. You have made us proud, son. Continue your legacy. Your life is far from over."

With that final statement, the mist disappeared, and the room's light returned. Ardan wiped the blood from his snout, standing. A tear ran down Spyro's face as he contemplated Ignitus' words. He would make him proud, in the only way he surely knew how to.

He turned to Ardan, and spoke eight words. "I want to become the next Fire Guardian."

* * *

-ArdanTheWolf


	4. Chapter 4: Official

**Official**

* * *

Five months had passed since Spyro and Cynder's revelations. Warfang had begun to expand, a massive town forming outside of the walls. Here, people could live in peace while not taking up space inside, which had become extremely rare. Of course, people didn't complain. The populace was wholly content, even without the safety of the walls. They had survived for years without them, and could continue.

The town populace was mostly made up of artisans and traders, unlike the city. If one desired a piece of armor, a delicious meal, or any other such item, they would go to the town. Still, despite the safety of the city and the comfort of the town, some still preferred the wild. These individuals were rarely spotted, but still generally treated with hospitality. However, they were seen to be a bit on the strange side.

However, despite their strangeness, these 'wild dragons' were a large reason why the grublin attacks had decreased. Indeed, a dragon that actually preferred great hardship was one to be feared.

* * *

After several weeks, Cynder had become Captain of the Guard. They were not often utilized, but she still managed to inspire a rigid discipline that hardened militaries would envy. No other military leader could match Cynder's tactical brilliance, which is precisely why Malefor had chosen her as his leading general. She was a strategic genius, stationing guards in all the precise locations to keep crime at an absolute zero and security as high as possible.

Spyro, on the other hand, had taken a very different career. He, along with a few others, established a proper school for the young dragons. The temple would take them in when they were of age, but many children were too young for the rigorous training under the guardians. Spyro himself was in charge of teaching about the four major elements and training in basic use and safety. He also operated as an unofficial protector of the town. Whenever a group of daring grublins managed to slip between the wild dragons, and the guard was unable to reach then in time, Spyro would stop them. The more primal part of the purple dragon loved this, relishing a chance to fight and kill those who had attacked him so many times.

* * *

Today, Cynder had taken a leave, allowing her second-in-command, Veradeer, to take over. She needed a day to relax, and would go see Spyro. Although his school had been established for nearly three months, she had always been too busy to see it in action. She had recently realized just how much her purple lover adored children from the visits by Ember, Flame, and their hatchlings. The tiny dragonlings had instantly taken a liking to Spyro and, in turn, to herself. After a few visits to warm up to them, they had taken to calling them Uncle Spyro and Aunt Cynder, titles which Cynder found adorable to no end.

Despite their not having been mated yet, both dragons nearly constantly toyed with the idea of becoming parents themselves. The war was over, a golden age was coming about, and they had an easier life than either had ever dreamed. There could not possibly be any better time to raise children in. Despite these facts, both dragons had agreed to wait until the time was right. They both wanted a family, but they could wait. At least, for a few days.

* * *

The dark-scaled dragoness approached the school, noticing one of the teachers standing by the door. The building was constructed out of wood, like most of the buildings in the town. However, the lumber came from the enchanted forest, and was impervious to fire. This was required due to the elemental training including that of fire.

"Hello," greeted Cynder, gaining the attention of the unfamiliar instructor. "Have you seen Spyro recently?"

"He's out in the clearing behind the building," answered the red dragon. "I believe he's telling the hatchlings a story. He says that it helps them learn, but I think he just loves talking to them." He chuckled. "He really wants a child."

"Thank you," said the dragoness, hoping to end this conversation before it began. She had no wish to discuss such personal matters with a stranger. She took a walk around the rather large building, stopping when she saw Spyro, with at least a dozen little dragons surrounding him. His eyes were lit, and his mouth moved with a fluidity that conveyed the truth and excitement in his words. She listened closer, picking up on the last few sentences.

"We had just beaten a group of grublins," explained the purple dragon. "We were really tired, but more just kept pouring in. We tried to fight them off, but it was like there was no end. Eventually, I decided that I was through with them. I used something called a fury, a massive elemental attack that drains your energy faster than trying to get to class on time." A few of the children giggled, and Cynder couldn't help but smile. She knew what he was talking about. He was leaving out some of the more adult details, but this was the moment that she fell in love with him.

"What did the fury do?" asked one of the children.

"Every grublin within a half-mile was set on fire," answered Spyro, which was followed by several astonished gasps. Spyro chuckled, before noticing Cynder. "Now, everyone should get to your next class with Veriena. She'd kill me if I made you all late with a story again." The children all groaned, either disliking the next class or enjoying his too much. Eventually, after the final hatchling was gone, Cynder approached.

"You're really great with them," she observed, widening the smile on his lips. "You left out a few details, though." She gave him a seductive smile as she closed the gap between their muzzles.

For a moment , they simply connected. Then, after a few moments, their kiss grew more aggressive. Soon, Cynder felt Spyro's tongue begging for access, which she allowed. Their tongues wrestled within each other's maws for several moments, until they were forced to separate. As mating season grew closer, it was getting harder to repress urges. Had they not stopped, both knew they would have likely ended up mating in the clearing, which would not have been a good idea. Dragon mating was rough, violent, and above all else, loud.

"S-Spyro," moaned Cynder, upset that they had to separate. Females were much more sensitive to the effects of mating season that males, which explained why Spyro was always the one breaking apart the more intense moments. It pained him, but they had agreed. Luckily, Spyro knew that the right moment would be coming soon. Very soon.

"Don't worry," said Spyro. "I'm certain that the right time will come along sooner than we think. Cynder smiled at him, knowing what he meant. The competitions for becoming Guardians were in a week. They would almost definitely mate before then. Even if it was just instinctive urges forcing them to.

"Alright," said Cynder, "but it had better not take too long." She seductively ran the flat of her tailblade along Spyro's jawline, causing the larger dragon to shudder at its cold touch.

"Say," began Spyro, trying to stop himself from pouncing on the dragoness, "Aren't you supposed to be shouting at some lazy guards right now?"

"You mean Sirius?" scoffed Cynder, referring to the obscenely lazy gate guard who was, almost laughably, a candidate for fire guardian. "I straightened him out weeks ago."

"He was asleep the last five times I was heading through the gate," said Spyro. "Maybe you weren't as thorough as you thought." He laughed lightly upon seeing her surprised expression. She truly thought she had gotten through that dragon's head.

"Anyway," began Cynder, breaking off from the irritating topic, "I left Vera in charge. I needed a day off."

"I was a actually going to come find you," said the purple dragon. "Just now. I wanted to see if we could hunt today. Together. We haven't had much time eith each other, alone, lately." It was true, they had hardly seen each other at all outside of their house, as they were always too tired to do anything after working all day. Spyro's exhaustion always seemed rather strange to Cynder, though she did not ask. Teaching a group if hatchlings did not seem like too tiring a job.

"That sounds nice," responded Cydner, glad to see that Spyro has already wanted to go. "Where to?"

"We've got all day," answered Spyro. "Maybe we could try the Fields of Avalar. Perhaps we could visit Hunter?" Cynder nearly laughed at Spyro's expressions as he thought of all the ways they could spend their day. However, besides his general joyful expression, his eyes possessed an alien twinkle which she had never seen before in even the best of times. He was really quite excited about something, though she knew not what.

"Alright, let's go."

* * *

They had been flying for nearly an hour. The sun was centered above them and the forests zipped by like great, green waves. The dragons had not flown for such a distance in years. Their wings were slightly sore, though it mattered little. Cynder was too busy contemplating Spyro's intentions for this seemingly inconsequential trip.

"You seemed to be doing well with those younglings," mentioned Cynder. "You'd make a great father."

"I've told you, Cynder," sighed Spyro, "the time isn't right.

"When will it be right?" demanded the dragoness. "Mating season is coming soon, and you'll be at the mercy of every dragoness who wants you."

"I promise, that will not happen. Even if I have to lock myself up for the season. No matter what, I'll always be yours." Cynder turned her head and smiled, before noticing that the great plains of Avalar were finally beneath them.

They swooped down, reaching incredible speeds. The air rushed around them like a hurricaine, the wind almost resembling sandpaper rubbing against their scales. Luckily, they weren't moving too fast, and managed to catch themselves before impacting the ground. For a moment, they had difficulty breathing. However, with time, they were able to speak again.

"I love flying," they both said, in synchronization. For the first time, Cynder noticed a small satchel hanging from Spyro's side. It was round, small, and made from some sort of hide that she had never seen. It had been hidden from sight this entire time.

"What's that?" she asked, pointing at the bag. Spyro realized what she saw and quickly covered it with his wing. She grew suspicious and slightly nervous. What could he be hiding?

"It's nothing," he blurted, quickly. "Well, it's something, but you'll have to wait to see." Cynder was immensely curious now, but simply nodded. She almost giggled; he was so cute when he was caught by surprise.

"Well, I can't wait to see it," she said, truthfully. Spyro thought to himself that she would see it sooner than she thought. It was finally time for the most important moment of his life. Defeating Gaul, Malefor , and the armies if darkness felt like drops in the ocean compared to what he was about to do.

"Look," began Spyro, "I didn't really bring you out here to hunt." She had expected that. "This is the place we escaped to. Our first night after being frozen." He pointed to their left, and Cynder saw the massive waterfall and forests. She gasped, never having truly observed the beauty of the landscape that they used to escape the grublin tribes.

"And," continued the purple dragon, "I thought this was the best place to ask." He stood in front of the dragoness, gaining her full attention. She winded a long blade of grass around a claw, her nerves controlling her body.

"Ask what?" she questioned. She had a feeling, and hoped it wasn't just wishful thinking. She had dreamt of this moment since first tasting freedom, though she had not truly known it. Those feelings were then tripled when she fell in love with Spyro.

"I've been lying lately," admitted Spyro. "I've not been spending all day teaching, like I said." Cynder was not growing concerned. If he had brought her here to ask what she had hoped, would he not have simply said it by now?

"Then what have you been doing?" asked Cynder. What was so important that he would lie to her to cover it up? Was this a confession? She hoped not, but it seemed to be so.

"I've been at the forge," he confessed. "Building something. For you." He slowly reached into the satchel, revealing a ring. It was large enough to fit around the very end of her tail or wrist, and could be opened to fit either comfortably.

It was expertly fashioned, in the shape of two dragons, black and purple, chasing each other in an infinite loop. It glowed a faint purple, a sign of enchantment. It was a beautiful ring, but its meaning is what brought tears to the dragoness' eyes.

"I love you more than anything else in this world," began Spyro. "Without you, I would not be here. Without you, the world would not be here. After you freed me from convexity, I realized that I couldn't live without you. I want you to be even more than my mate, Cynder. Will you be my wife?"

Cynder nearly began to cry. She had never been so happy. She had dreamed of this, but had no idea it would happen so quickly, or at all. Mating was common for dragons, but marriage certainly was not. It was the ultimate expression of love and solidity of the bond between dragons.

Cynder was silent for several moments. She wanted to jump, run, laugh, cry, fly, and do all other sorts of things. Hearing that question was almost too much for her to handle. Finally, she managed to croak out the one word that mattered.

"Y-Yes." She realized the moment she said it that her reply sounded hesitant. Almost forced. Spyro had not noticed, however, and was too happy with the answer itself.

Quickly, before the purple dragon could react, he was tackled to the ground. Again, Cynder kissed him, her tongue begging for entrance. He allowed it immediately, and they passionately kissed for what felt like an eternity. Cynder failed to notice Spyro raise his left forepaw in the air and fire a massive, silent lightning bolt into the sky.

* * *

They had spent the entire day doing nothing but talking, interrupted by frequent bouts of kissing. However, Spyro insisted that they return to Warfang at a very precise time. He did not tell her why, only vaguely hinting, each time she asked. It was a growing source of anxiety to Cynder, as she contemplated what was going on. She knew how important a wedding between dragons was, but nothing of the ceremony.

However, once they touched down, she began to realize that something big was afoot. The streets were entirely deserted, and the only light appeared to be emanating in the center square in front of the temple. Whenever Cynder went to ask, Spyro would say nothing, only smiling whilst looking straight ahead.

Eventually, they came upon the square, where every one of the five-hundred and eighty three dragons, five wolves, three Cheetahs, and various dragonflies, were waiting in silent anticipation. Cynder had no idea what was going on, and was incredibly nervous with all the eyes on her.

After a few suspenseful moments, Spyro stepped forward, and everyone's eyes centered on him. He allowed the suspense to build a bit more, before saying three, simple, glorious words.

"She said yes." That was all it took for the entire city to explode into roars, whoops, cheers, and other assorted excitement. Joy exploded throughout everyone, even those too young to understand what was happening. The crowd began to seperate slightly, but not fully disperse.

Perhaps I should explain dragon marriage tradition a bit more, eh? You see, the male would often set up the wedding to happen just after the proposal, taking their significant other out to "pop the question," as it were.

Usually, the dragoness would say yes, and the male would signal the others to prepare, often via an elemental ability, such as lightning. This was also meant to signal those who knew beforehand to gather everyone. Being such a secretive event beforehand, most would require an explanation of what was going on, thus Spyro's words.

Once, the weddings were actually much larger than this. Dragons would appear in the thousands to celebrate, as they were rare enough to be very significant events. Now, Avalarian dragons were few, but were just as happy to celebrate their savior's most important day as ever.

The wedding has three parts. First, the shorter celebration. It would be mostly to allow any stragglers to appear, and give guests time to address and congratulate the couple. Then, the ceremony, when the two would become bonded in the eyes of the ancestors. After that: the longer celebration, which would involve feasting, dancing, drinking and all other sorts of activity. Anyone would be allowed to leave at any time, including the couple. In fact, they would often be encouraged to leave first if they hadn't yet mated.

Anyway, back to the story. The first celebration was beginning, and all sorts of people were approaching the couple. Eventually, Volteer and Ardan approached. Cynder was glad to see her father after being surrounded by strangers and acquaintances for so long. Ignitus had asked Ardan to act as Spyro's guardian, which the wolf graciously accepted. The purple dragon had taken a liking to the kindly old wolf, and got many of his stories from him.

"Cynder!" greeted the eccentric Guardian. "I cannot believe you two are being married! Astounding, stupendous, magnificen-"

"Calm yourself, friend," said Ardan. "You are sparking. Literally." The electric guardian had small sparks flying off of his body, many of which were hitting the wolf.

"Apologies, but I have not been this excited since I found out you two were alive! It is every dragon's dream to have his daughter married, and I simply couldn't think of a better choice!"

Ardan pulled Spyro to the side, so he could hear over Volteer. "I spoke to your father, Spyro."

"What did he say?" asked the purple dragon. He still had mixed feelings for his father, but still sought his affection and approval, even in afterlife. 'Twas the life of a reunited orphan.

"That he regrets his duties keep him from being here. It breaks his heart, not being able to attend his own son's wedding. However, know that he is watching through my eyes, and told me that he would speak to you in your dreams tonight. I told him that he would be wise to wait until tomorrow night."

"Why is that?" asked Spyro. Ardan said nothing, simply smiling and winking, before walking away. His meaning quickly dawned on Spyro, and the purple dragon chuckled lightly. He rejoined Cynder, meeting guests for the next several minutes. Eventually, Ardan's voice boomed across the square, drawing everyone's eyes to a podium in front of the temple.

"Hail, all who have come to attend this ceremony," greeted the wolf using a magically enhanced voice. "Many of you know that it is generally the groom's father's duty to marry the couple. However, it pains me to admit that Ignitus, our former Fire Guardian and current Chronicler, cannot attend. He is here with us, quite literally, in spirit, but cannot speak. So, the duty is passed to whoever would call themself Spyro's guardian. His foster father, the dragonfly Flash, could also not attend, due to his village simply being located too far away to arrive on short notice.

"This leaves I, whom Ignitus himself has named as Spyro's guardian. As both this and the High Magic Guardian, I am obligated to fill this role. Would Spyro and Cynder please approach the stand?" The young dragons did so, standing side-by-side and looking at the wolf.

"We all know that dragon ceremonies are very short and simple. Now, my wedding took a week and a half, but I suppose I'm just not lucky enough to be a dragon." Several people laughed, including Safire, who was also staring daggers into her husband.

"So, let us begin. Spyro, do you truly wish to spend the rest of your life with Cynder? To love and protect her? To allow her entirety into your spirit for the rest of time?"

"Yes, I do"

"Very good. Cynder, do you wish to spend the rest of your life with Spyro. To love and protect him? To allow his entirety into your spirit for the rest of time?"

"I do."

"Then it is said. If anyone believes that these two should not be bonded, speak now." Not a sound was made.

"And it is done," said the wolf. "You are now bonded in the eyes of the Ancestors, your family and friends, and all others who know the names Spyro and Cynder. You may kiss." The dragons wasted no time in connecting, their emotions intensified by the fact that this kiss meant that they were officially wed. They knew not to go too far, as hundreds of people were watching.

As their mouths separated, the crowd began to cheer and roar. However, the sound was drowned out to Spyro and Cynder, who were staring intensely into each other's eyes. Over the last few months, they had many ecstatic moments. However, none could live up to this. Any other happiness paled in comparison.

"I love you," they both mouthed, never having meant something so much. As they continued to stand, they were suddenly drawn back to reality by Ardan's hands on each of their backs. They looked up to the the old wolf smiling, his eyes bright.

"Shall the festivities begin?"

* * *

The celebration was three hours in, and had mellowed out significantly. As time went on, many a drink was consumed and almost everyone still in attendance was completely drunk.

Now, you need to understand that dragon's are not too different humans when intoxicated. I once went to a tavern called the drunken dragon, named after a dragoness who had consumed fifteen barrels of mead. She stood on her hind legs, roared, and passed out, shattering several tables. Dragons are not necessarily the regal creatures many view them as.

Anyway, many dragons had left by now, including all of the children and most parents. Flame's children were gone, all of the guardians except Ardan were gone, and the Cheetahs had all left.

"How often?" asked a black dragon named Vorza.

"Every. Single. Waking. Moment," answered Flame. "Three days!" All of the males (and several females) around him burst out laughing, and Ember, despite being inebriated, still hid her face and blushed. Flame was excellent at making a fool of himself when drunk.

"Did either of you even eat?" asked a large, red dragoness by the name of Ruby. She was a slightly famous gem cutter who specialized in cutting crystals in such a way as to make jewelry with magical properties without actually using magic.

"No," answered Flame, cockily. "We were starving by the end of it."

"And you still didn't want to stop," interjected Ember, causing another bout of laughter. Everyone let out slightly inebriated cheers as Spyro and Cynder approached. Flame stood, wobbling slightly.

"Hey, Sssspyro!" he greeted in a slurred voice. "And Cynder! Why arrrrrrre you stil' here?"

"Umm... It's our wedding," said Spyro. "Why wouldn't we be?" Instead of answering, Flame stepped forward and put his paw on the purple dragon's shoulder, to keep balance.

"See, everyone," began Flame, "Spyro here... he's my bes' friend. He's a gen... a genus... a gen... he's real smart with fighting. But, when it comes to some other stuff... He's the dumbest motherfucker you ever met!" Everyone, even Cynder, had to stifle a laugh at Flame's statement, while Spyro just turned his head and gave Flame an irritated look.

"And what would this 'other stuff' be?" asked the purple dragon. "Because, by my reckoning, I've outsmarted you in nearly every situation since I met you."

"Hah!" laughed Flame. "I'm ten times better than you at two of the best parts of life."

"What?"

"Sex and fire!" No one could hold in their laughter upon hearing this. Flame's complete lack of inhibition was almost too much for most people. "I'd show you, but we're surrounded by all sorts of explosive shit. I'll just have to ask Cynder about the sex tomorrow."

For a moment, Spyro wanted to knock out his intoxicated friend. However, he just laughed it off and said, "Flame, go home. You're drunk."

"Five barrels of Nothern Cheetah Liquor'll do that!" exclaimed Flame. Luckily, Ember had the sense to drag Flame away before he could cause a scene.

"See you tomorrow, Spyro," said Ember, as she dragged her mate away. For a few moments, there was total silence. Finally, someone asked one exclamation.

"Wait, so he was the one who drank all the liquor!" This sent everyone over the edge into a laughing frenzy.

* * *

**EXPLICIT CONTENT AHEAD. READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!**

* * *

As Spyro and Cynder opened the door to their home, they relished the newfound privacy of locked doors and curtained windows. Almost immediately, they both stood on their hindlegs and Spyro pushed Cynder against the wall. They began to kiss more aggressively than they ever had, their tongues wrestling from the moment their mouths connected.

"I love you," whispered Spyro in between kisses, which magnified the sensation. The continued for what felt like hours, and Cynder was the one to break it.

"Let's do this somewhere a bit more comfortable," she suggested. "This wall isn't exactly my idea of a romantic spot." Spyro agreed, and they both sprinted to their bedroom.

Spyro had nearly reached the bed when he was tackled from behind. The black dragoness turned him over, and resumed their previous kiss, taking the dominant position. Spyro's paws sensually ran down the dragoness' sides, resting on her hips. Eventually, she broke the kiss yet again, much to the purple dragon's chagrin.

However, he was surprised to find her slowly moving down his body. Once she reached his member , it was already fully at attention. The black dragoness giggled lightly, looking up at her mate.

"Big," she observed bluntly. Before Spyro could react, and explosion of pleasure shot through his body. He looked down to see Cynder's right hand wrapped firmly around his dragonhood. She began to rub it slowly, eliciting gasps and groans of pleasure from the purple dragon. As the intensity of the friction increased, Spyro knew that she had complete and utter control over him. He was not used to the feeling, and not quite sure how to feel about it, but it did not matter. After a quick pang of insecurity, all that registered in his mind was the intense pleasure.

After about a minute, the rubbing abruptly ended. Spyro was about to ask what she was doing, but she slammed her mouth against his just as it was opening. Again, they shared a kiss more intense than any before. Cynder wrapped her forelegs around Spyro's neck, and he rested his on her back.

After nearly two minutes, they broke apart once more. Spyro could feel his member throbbing - almost painfully - at its full length. He was readier than ever before to take Cynder as his own in the most primal way possible. Without warning, he grabbed her by the shoulders and rolled her around so that he was on top. Cynder was shocked and excited by his sudden aggressive behavior, and purred amorously.

Dragon mating instinct is extremely aggressive for the male, as demonstrated here. Once actually engaged in intercourse, the female would also grow aggressive, but significantly less so. Mating sessions, especially the first, would often end in bruises and scars. However, it is nearly always mutually agreed to be completely worth it.

Spyro grabbed the sheets on either side of his soon-to-be-mate, lining his member with her womanhood. Still retaining some semblance of self-control, the young, purple dragon looked to her eyes for consent. The moment she completed her nod, he plunged himself into her.

She roared violently, her teeth stabbing into the larger dragon's shoulder. He ignored the pain, staying perfectly still so as to allow her to adjust. After a few moments, he heard her whisper to keep going. In order for her to adjust properly, he needed to go to the hilt. Slowly, he continued to move forward, grimacing at her whimpers of pain. Soon, his hips touched hers, showing that he had entered completely. Again, he waited. He waited for what seemed like an eternity, until he heard her speak.

"Out, then in," she gasped. "I'm ready." Spyro did as commanded, but heard her exclaim in agony the moment he re-hilted. Worry quickly gripped him.

"What's wrong?" he exclaimed. "Did I do something?" He nearly pulled out, but Cynder quickly wrapped her hind legs around his torso, growling raggedly.

"You need to keep going," she whispered. "The pain will stop eventually. Exiting is the worst thing you could do right now." Spyro paused for a few moments, then reluctantly did as told. Each time he heard her exclaim in pain, he wanted to stop. However, he began to notice a gradual change in pitch and length of her exclamations. Eventually, they had progressed from moans of pain to those of pleasure. Now, it was time to begin.

He set a steady rhythm of thrusts, each faster and harder than the last. Cynder grabbed the back of his neck, moaning loudly. Neither could form a coherent thought, much less speak, so was the intensity of their pleasure. It was better than anything either dragon had ever experienced, imagined, or fantasized about. Both had often wondered what mating would be like, as all young men and women do, but nothing could have prepared them for this.

They made love for an unknown amount of time, as it was perceived as an eternity by both. However, it needed to end eventually. Cynder had already peaked three times, and was rising for a fourth. She could feel Spyro's thrusts growing more shallow and rapid with each passing moment, and prepared herself for the finale.

As she rose to her fourth climax, Spyro let loose a great roar, the contractions around his member pushing him over the edge. He thrusted in as far as possible, his member pulsing and throbbing heavily as it spilled his seed into his finally-consummated mate. It lasted for several moments, both dragons growling each other's names all the while. Once they were finally finished, the young dragons fell to their sides, Spyro removing himself from Cynder.

For a long time, they stared into each other's eyes. Their heavy breathing eventually calmed, and they lay together for what seemed like forever. As exhaustion slowly gripped either dragon, they moved closer and closer. Finally, their chests were pressed together, and their mouths connected in a light kiss.

"I love you," they whispered in unison before drifting into deep sleeps.

* * *

-ArdanTheWolf


	5. Chapter 5: So it Begins

**So It Begins**

* * *

This day began like any other for the past week. Spyro and Cynder were blissfully sleeping on their bed which had seen much more attention that ever before. They had been given a two-week-long leave from their respective jobs, due to both their marriage and the fact that they were to compete to become guardians.

Spyro was the first to stir, realizing that, like most of the past week's mornings, he was still inside of his mate. Sadly, this meant that-

"AGH!" yelped Spyro as the black dragoness rolled over, crushing his most sensitive part. He quickly removed it before she could cause any more damage, and noticed that she had started to wake.

"Mmmm, good morning," she smiled, and Spyro hid the lingering pain to the best of his ability. He brought his hand up and lightly caressed his mate's cheek, not wanting to leave her side for the rest of the day. However, today marked the start of the competitions. They had to get up, or they were forfeited.

"Ancestors," sighed Spyro. "You are the most beautiful dragoness I've ever laid eyes on."

"You've told me this so many times I've lost count," giggled Cynder, "but it still means the world to me. I love you." She kissed him lightly, and continued to stare into his amethyst eyes.

"You know that we might end up having to fight each other?" asked Spyro. When Cynder nodded, he sighed. "I don't know if I can. Having to fight you again..." A tear began to form in his eye as he remembered Malefor turning her back into his slave. Seeing her attack him as he gave up hope. That was the first time he had ever truly given up the will to live. He never wanted to remember that.

"Hey," she said, wiping the tear away with her thumb. "Even if we do have to fight, it will be nothing like before. It won't be the fate of the world, or our lives." Spyro smiled, thankful to have Cynder there next to him. Without her, he would have no chance in this world.

"I love you," he repeated for the thousandth time. "I'll never let anything happen to you. Even if it means sacrificing my only chance at becoming the Fire Guardian."

"Don't make that sacrifice," she chided. "I can handle a fight. Even with you." She smiled and began to get up, Spyro following suit. They reached the door, revealing Ardan, who had just been about to knock.

"Spyro! Cynder!" he exclaimed, bowing. "I'm glad I caught you. There are some things I'd like to go over, before either of you begin. First, and foremost: Cynder, are you gravid?" They were both shocked at the rather abrupt question.

"I don't know," she answered, truthfully. "I don't think so." Ardan stroked his chin, thinking.

"Speak with your father before you try anything," recommended the wolf. "He might have a way to find out."

"Okay."

The elder turned to the purple dragon. "Spyro, are you ready to begin? The first test is the least formal, but one of the worst." Spyro nodded, before looking to Cynder.

"You do what you have to," she said. "I'll see you later, Spyro. Ardan." With that, she exited, Spyro watching her with a hint of sadness. Ever since they mated, he hated being separated from her.

"I know how you feel, son," said Ardan. "I couldn't bear the sight of seing Safire leave my side for years after we were wed." Spyro nodded, still watching Cynder. "We should begin."

"This test is one of the worst. I will reach within your spirit and find the memory that most haunts you. You will relive it again in your mind, and do what you now think you should have done. This choice will affect whether or not you are deemed fit to become a guardian." Spyro gulped, knowing full well what the memory was.

* * *

"Begin," he said, simply. Ardan nodded, before touching his hand to Spyro's forehead. Suddenly, the purple dragon felt a sharp pain, followed by darkness and numbness. An image gradually appeared. Cynder, Malefor, and himself were standing in the Dark Master's lair.

Suddenly, Cynder's entire body grew dark. Black magic encircled her, as Malefor's power sent her into a frenzy, turning her against the one she loved.

This time, Spyro noticed things he hadn't before. As Cynder attacked him, Malefor let his guard slip ever so slightly. Cynder herself was attacking hesitantly, and was obviously fighting internally. Spyro used this, dodging one of Cynder's attacks, and barreling into the Dark Master.

He succeeded at knocking the giant back, but hardly did any damage. Malefor growled, then laughed. He brought one paw up, twisting his hand.

"You must pay for this," he stated, "and she must pay for failure." Spyro heard a sickening snap as the dark magic broke Cynder's neck, killing her. Spyro was completely stunned, one million thoughts racing through his mind. He looked at her body, then back to Malefor.

The only thought he conceive was to kill. He knew that this was only a vision, that the real Malefor was dead and the real Cynder was with Volteer. However, seeing his mate's corpse, even like this, set something off in the young dragon. He stood perfectly still, shaking more with every moment. His eyes began to glow, dull at first.

Suddenly, his scales began to turn black, and purple electricity began to appear around him. It was like convexity, but different. He was surrounded by dark versions of his two more powerful elements: dark electricity and black fire. Malefor smiled.

"I've seen this before," he chuckled. "You may have killed Gaul with it, but Convexity is my domain!" He continued to laugh, until Spyro spoke.

"By the time I'm done," he said, calmly, "you'll beg for Gaul's fate." With that, he shot past Malefor, tearing open the giant's shoulder. His serrated tailblade cut far and deep. When Malefor turned and shot a beam of dark energy at Spyro, the purple dragon moved faster than the eye could see.

Spyro toyed with Malefor for what seemed like an eternity, killing him slowly with small cuts and stabs. Eventually, the Dark Master couldn't stand, much less fight. He looked up at Spyro, a pained expression on his face.

"How?" demanded Malefor. "I cannot be defeated. I am eternal!" Before he could speak any more, Spyro plunged his blade into the gian't side, earning a roar of agony. He twisted his tail relentlessly, causing the Dark Master to feel unimaginable pain. Inevitably, the giant begged for death, but Dark Spyro was not so kind. After what felt like hours, everything faded to blackness.

* * *

Ardan removed his hand, his eyes wide. He'd seen things, many things. Most of which were worse than this. However, Spyro's literal dark side was still a shock.

"What was that?" asked Spyro. "It felt so real."

"It's difficult to explain," responded the wolf. "Just know that, had you actually attacked Malefor, Cynder would be dead. That dream was really what could have happened."

"How do you know that?" Spyro was truly confused, and curious. The anger and fear from the vision was still there, but was slowly dissipating.

"I'm sorry, Spyro," apologized the Guardian. "I am bound by oath to not reveal this kind of knowledge to any but a Magic Guardian. But know one thing. You have passed this test."

"What?" asked Spyro, unable to believe him. "But, you saw what I did! I let convexity control me!"

"Not in our world. It is important for a Guardian to know when to hold back. You did so, saving more lives. Had you allowed Cynder to die, you would have lost the will to fight after gaining revenge. The Destroyer would have succeeded, and no one would be alive."

"You said that I would be judged based on my actions in the dream."

"You were. I saw what could have happened, but what really happened is what matters most." With that, he bowed to the young dragon and took his leave.

* * *

"Hello, Cynder," exclaimed Volteer while he poured a vial of green fluid into a large bowl. The dragoness had a slight ping of curiosity, but held it at bay.

"Hello, Father," she responded. "Ardan sent me." Volteer took pause in his experiment, and walked over to his daughter.

"And what does the old man want this time?" he asked, half-jokingly.

"He wants you to find out if I'm... with young." Volteer's eyes went wide at the words, and he quickly turned, ruffling through his cupboards. He pulled out a small bowl.

"Why didn't you come sooner?" he asked, worried. "If you are, then it will complicate your becoming a guardian tremendously." He handed her the bowl. "I need you to go into the other room and urinate into this bowl. I'll need to do a few tests to find out."

She did as he asked, and returned a few moments later with the bowl. He took it, and placed it on a counter. After several vials and tubes worth of potions and serums, he finished his test.

"Ahh, good," he sighed. "You are gravid, Cynder." At the news, Cynder squealed slightly, not knowing if it was delight or fear. "However, it happened recently enough that I can give you a potion to suppress the egg's growth long enough that you will make it through the competitions without any negative effects."

"Will it harm the child?" she asked, surprised at her sudden defensiveness.

"No," answered Volteer. "It will only take slightly longer for it to hatch. About a day or two." Upon seeing Cynder's worried expression, he put a hand on her shoulder. "I've done this many times, do not worry."

Cynder contemplated it for a moment, before nodding. "Okay. I'll do it." Volteer grabbed a small tube, handing it to Cynder.

"Drink," he said. She did, and felt a sharp pain in her abdomen. However, it quickly went away. "Do not worry about the pain," he said. "It is only the potion taking effect."

"Thank you," said Cynder, embracing her father. She decided on what her feeling was about the child.

She was happy.

* * *

Spyro!" called Cynder, entering her house. The purple dragon instantly appeared, glad to see that she was back.

"Cynder! What did Volteer say?" He was eager to hear the news, and excited when a smile spread across her face.

"We're going to be parents," she smiled, and Spyro let out a surprised gasp. A wide grin appeared on his face as he embraced his mate. He had wanted nothing more than to father her young, and it was actually happening. It wasn't just a dream anymore. They would have a child.

"Will this affect your chance at becoming a Guardian?" he asked, after a few moments. She shook her head.

"No, I was given a potion that will suppress the egg's development for about a week. It won't affect the child, it will just take a bit longer for the egg to hatch."

"Good." He lightly caressed her cheek, smiling with bright eyes. Since the war ended, becoming a father was something he had always dreamed of.

Suddenly, another knock on the door. Spyro sighed, and went to get it again. He opened it, revealing the old wolf again. He wasted no time in entering, approaching Cynder.

"Volteer told me everything," he informed her. "Are you ready for your test?" She nodded, having no idea what she was agreeing to.

* * *

"Gaul, you will take your forces and wipe out the eastern village. Any black eggs will be brought to me, destroy the rest.  
No man, woman, or child can live." The ape smiled, nodding malevolently to the purple dragon. He turned, exiting the chamber. The Master turned to Cynder, who stood ready for her mission.

"You will go to the north. Destroy the village, and every egg. I do not care about the color. I believe a purple dragon has been born. Its mother is an ice dragon, she is your top priority. Kill her." Cynder nodded, even as her mind screamed to stop.

"Yes, Master." With that she shot into the air, exiting through a hole in the ceiling. The Master's forces cheered as the let out a deafening roar. The real Cynder had no control over her body, even in the vision.

She flew for hours, constantly trying to gain control over herself. However, it was no use. Malefor's magic controlled her, even in the dream. Eventually, she reached the village.

"Leave, foul creature!" ordered the elder, who stood at guard. Every able dragon in the village growled, ready to defend against the Terror of the Skies.

Cynder grinned wickedly, looking to the side. The hatchery was defended only by two dragons. How pathetic. She fired one blast of convex energy at the building, creating a massive explosion. Any egg in there, and the guards, were wiped from existence.

All of the dragons turned, their eyes going wide at the sight of their eggs having been destroyed. They all began to howl and roar, devastated by grief. One blue female shot into the sky, leveling with Cynder.

"I'll kill you," she hissed. "And if I can't, my son can."

"I am to fear an orphan bastard?" laughed Cynder, before charging. The ice dragoness was good, but Cynder's enhanced strength was too much. They quickly rose, until Cynder broke away.

"I am told that I was in the same hatchery as your runt son!" she laughed. "Perhaps we are even siblings! I would love to see my brother's face when he finds out that I was the one to kill you!" The ice dragon roared, a beam of white energy rocketing towards Cynder.

"You are no daughter of mine!" she bellowed. "I would sooner die than give life to a horror such as you!" Cynder let out a cackle before lunging at her opponent. She toyed with the dragoness, cutting her apart, bleeding her. Eventually, she closed her jaws around her weakened victim's neck.

With one snap, the ice dragoness was no more. Cynder descended to the village, and finished her job. Not a man, woman, or child survived her thorough purge. The real Cynder had no control over her past self, even in the vision.

Ardan released his hand, recoiling in shock. He knew of Cynder's past, but was unaware of her... enthusiasm. She truly seemed to enjoy slaughtering countless innocents, including Spyro's own mother. He did not know what to say.

Cynder was a different story. The moment the dream ended, she collapsed. Tears poured from her eyes as she recognized the foul joy of murder. That was the first time she had ever killed on such a scale. However, she had no idea that her mate's mother was one of the victims.

Spyro rushed to her side, worried. She quickly wrapped her forelegs around him, seeking comfort in his familiar grasp. He held her as she cried, something which he had done very, very few times. She was a self-controlled, proud dragoness. Whatever she saw must have been terrible beyond words.

* * *

"I-I couldn't control m-myself," she gasped, between sobs. It pained the purple dragon greatly to see her like this, but he knew that she just had to let it out. Trying to comfort her verbally in times like this never worked. He just had to hold her, for now.

"I know," whispered Ardan, kneeling by her side. For the first time, Spyro noticed a change in the wolf. He seemed infinitely older than he had been when they met, even though it had only been a few months. Perhaps the magic was draining him? Perhaps his years were finally catching up? Spyro knew not.

"What did she see?" asked Spyro. The question caused Cynder to shudder, for a reason that Spyro was unaware of. She gave a look to Ardan that her mate didn't notice, begging him to not let him know.

"It was a moment from her time as the Terror of the Skies," answered Ardan, truthfully. "I believe it was her first assignment." Spyro nodded, not pressing the matter. He knew there was more, but didn't want to bring his mate the pain of remembering.

Ardan was in a difficult situation. Never before had one of the visions been out of the subject's control. He looked back, examining each of the real Cynder's emotions thoroughly. Every moment, she was fighting it. She tried with all of her power to stop it. However, her own power paled in comparison to Malefor's magic. Eventually, Ardan made his decision.

"I believe that you are fit to continue," he said. Cynder stopped crying as much, but quick, sudden sobs continued. She was surprised enough to nearly stop, but the pain of remembering was still almost overpowering.

"Wh-what?" she asked, confused. "Even after what you saw me do, you'll still-"

"Had I detected even a single thought of enjoyment, I would not allow you to continue. However, you fought every step of the way. You tried with all of your power to stop yourself. It is not your fault that you could not stop it. What matters as that you put all of your mind and soul into the effort." He paused, allowing her a moment to understand. "Of course, real life demands success. However, this was a vision for judgement. You have done too much for us for me to deny you based on what you can't control."

The wolf abruptly stood, bowed, and left. Cynder's shock-happiness-sadness-fear mixture was confusing and strange. She saw no way to escape it other than to find comfort in the person who was always there for her. She buried her head into Spyro's chest, her sobs quieting. He continued to hold her, resting his head atop hers.

"It's okay," he whispered. "I'm here for you. No matter what you were forced to do, I always will be." He rubbed his forepaws against her back, making sure that she always knew that he was still there. "I love you."

She couldn't say it, but she knew it. Her emotions made it impossible for her mouth to utter a word, but in her heart, she could say it as clearly as ever.

_I love you, too._


	6. Chapter 6: Tests of Body and Mind

**Tests of Body and Mind**

* * *

The next day, after their first trial, Spyro and Cynder decided to spend what little free time they had together. Unlike the previous week, which had been a strange mixture of sleeping, hunting, and sex, they spent all day just talking to each other. They spoke of many things, some frivolous and some serious. They had light hearted debates on Ardan's age and solemn discussions on the state of the city. Currently, they were speaking of something that was at the forefront of both of their thoughts.

The child. It was one of the few blessings they had received throughout their lives. Neither had really thought about it when they consummated their bond, which was likely the cause of the egg. However, now that they both knew that a child would be birthed from their union, it was hard to think about anything else.

"Perhaps Ignitus?" suggested Cynder, running out of ideas. The had been discussing potential names for their child, and were hitting the bottom of the barrel.

"No," stated Spyro. "This child is unique. She should have a unique name." Cynder nearly laughed, gaining Spyro's attention. "Did I say something?"

"She?" asked the dragoness. "You're sure it will be a girl?" Spyro realized what he said, and chuckled lightly at himself.

"No," he answered. "I've just... always wanted a daughter. I'm not sure why." It was true. His mind had been occupied during the war but afterwards, whenever he dreamed about raising a child, it was a daughter. He had no idea why, but it just felt right.

"How about... Ria?" she asked. Spyro look at her, strangely.

"Why Ria?" he asked.

"I'm just out of ideas," she answered. "I suppose it will come to us eventually." Spyro nodded in agreement. As if on cue, a young blue messenger entered.

"Spyro, Cynder!" he panted, urgently. "The second trial! You must come quickly!" Without a word, they stood. They quickly followed him out the door and through the streets.

* * *

"The second trial is simple," explained Terrador. "Everyone here passed the first, meaning you are all strong, mentally. Now, we must test your physical capability. I want wind, water, ice, darkness, and electricity on the right. You'll be testing speed! I want all the rest on the left! You'll be testing strength."

Spyro and Cynder shared a quick, inconspicuous kiss before going in there respective directions. Terrador was observing the strength test, which appeared to be quire simple. The contestant would lay on their back, legs outstretched, as weights were placed on top of them. Once they couldn't hold it anymore, they would stop. Then, they would move to another test, where they would stand in between two walls which were slowly pushed together. They would, again, hold them apart as long as possible. Enchantments were in place to avoid serious injury.

Spyro was slightly relieved when he was last in line. He was even happier to see Flame and Ember in front of him. He greeted his friends, the latter of whom was incredibly surprised to see him.

"Spyro? You're here?" she asked, eyes wide.

"Yes, I am," he answered. "Flame didn't tell you?" She shook her head, glaring at her mate. The red dragon chuckled nervously, backing away slightly.

"I just gave you advice, man," he said. "What element are you going for?" He silently prayed that he would not say-

"Fire."

"Damn it!" exclaimed the couple in unison. "There goes our chances."

"You never know," replied Spyro, smiling cockily. "All these elements. I might not be as good at using just one of them." He said the words in a joking manner, so as to not come off as annoying or too cocky.

"Shut up," replied Ember, lightly punching him on the arm. "We might just end up teaming up on you." Se turned around, her eyes going wide. "Holy shit."

A young wolf, Ardan's grandson, was on the left test. A mole was recording the estimated weight he was holding at bay. His face was strained, and it looked like a vein was about to pop. Small traces of bark were appearing over his fur as his innate druid abilities enhanced his raw physical power.

"He's holding the equivalent of two tons," marveled Flame. "How the hell?" Spyro wasn't tok surprised. The wolves were a strange group, to say the least. He only wondered that, if his grandson was this strong, how powerful was the ancient Ardan?

The wolf finally stopped, exiting the chamber. His arms hung by his sides, dead. It would take a while for them to recover. Something seemed to be troubling him as his eyes locked with Spyro's. He was a strange one, judging from the times he spoke with the purple dragon. He had a good heart, and did not often look upset or worried. He was now.

Ember stepped forward, completing both tests with decent weights. Flame was almost identical, leaving the entire crowd of competitors to watch Spyro. He gulped, stepping forward.

"Begin!" ordered Terrador. The earth dragon workers began placing weights on Spyro's outstretched limbs. By the time he had well surpassed his friends' score, he still barely felt the pressure. Eventually, he did begin to feel a burn, at around half a ton. It was mostly because of having to balance the stack. Soon, he asked them to stop.

After a few moments of the workers removing the stones, he moved on. Consuming an energy elixir, his strength was returned. He stepped into the chamber, bracing his forelegs against the walls. Terrador began to move them together, and Spyro instantly felt it. The guardian had just shot a literal ton of pressure through the purple dragon's body in an instant, but he held strong.

The pressure quickly rose, his arms burning. However, he wouldn't let go. Images of the people he believed he would disappoint kept running through his head. Cynder, Ignitus, Ardan, Flame, Ember, even his unborn child. He would not give up.

Eventually, the pressure released. He looked over, finding Terrador collapsed. He seemed to be having trouble breathing, but reassured Spyro that he was fine. All he did was gesture for the purple dragon to look to the score. A shocked mole slowly turned his board around, revealing how much weight Spyro had repressed.

Three tons of pure, unadulterated force. Everyone knew he was strong; he had been able to beat every guardian at once in a sparring match, had fought off entire armies, and even defeated Malefor. However, this was simply unnatural. Of course, he wasn't the only one there with an unnatural ability.

* * *

"All of you will race, three laps on land and three in ten in the air," explained Volteer. He stepped to the side, allowing one of his odd contraptions to record their individual speeds. Once they had assumed positions, he shouted, "Begin!"

Cynder ran as quickly as she could, but was about as good at running as any average dragon. She came in a close sixth place, which wasn't too bad considering the number of dragons.

However, once they took to the skies, it was an entirely different story. The moment he told them to start, she rocketed from the ground, only the wind and dark candidates matching her speed. Once they reached the end of the race, they each found it nearly impossible to stop.

Cynder didn't want to stop. She wanted to see exactly how fast she could fly. Being tied to Spyro during the war made it impossible to reach her full potential, but she could now go as fast as she pleased. Her opponents quickly began to fall behind as she sped up. Eventually, she saw that they were ahead of her, but she hadn't seen them pass. Strange.

She continued to fly, determined to regain her lead. Again, in an even shorter time, they were ahead. How? Using her wind power, she gave herself a massive boost, creating a loud boom behind her. She began to move faster than the eye could see, prompting the others to ground as to not be hit. Her body became a black blur as she flew faster and faster, until finally slowing down. When she grounded, her wings were incredibly sore. Everyone there stared in awe, but she knew not why. Even Volteer was surprised when he looked at her speed.

"You were moving... faster than sound," he said, causing the entire crowd to gasp in shock. No known dragon had ever flown that fast, even the most powerful wind users. In fact, the only dragon to have ever flown that fast was Spyro, but even he didn't know that. It was what decimated his wings after escaping from the planet.

"Damn," whispered Flame. "Did you see that?" He looked over at Spyro. "I'm pretty sure you two were made for each other." Spyro nodded silently, waiting for something to happen. Finally, the guardians spoke.

"It would appear that we have narrowed the selections exponentially," said Volteer. "If you failed to repress at least two hundred pounds or move at least one hundred miles per hour, you are hereby disqualified." Several dragons growled in anger, some hanging their heads in sadness. Many left, leaving only three or four competitors in each group. Flame, Ember, and Spyro were the only ones left competing for Fire Guardian. Three people, including the wolf, were left for magic. No one was lost in wind or darkness.

It was slightly depressing, watching all of those people leave. However, Spyro knew that it meant that the future guardians would be strong. There was no room for kindness in this.

"Alright!" exclaimed Terrador. "You may return to your routines." Many of the dragons left, only Spyro not moving. Cynder stayed behind as well, curious.

"Terrador!" he called, gaining the Guardian's attention. "Where is Ardan? I thought the head guardian was to oversee every trial." Terrador turned, a surprised look on his face.

"Did he not tell you?" he asked. The dragons shook their heads, growing worried.

"Has something happened?" asked Cynder. Terrador nodded looked about, trying to think of the right words.

"Ardan is... not well. He had a heart attack late last night and has not left his chambers since. He tells us that he'll be fine but... we don't know." The young dragons gasped, their words failing. Ever since they met him, the wolf acted like they were his own. They had grown very close to him, closer than they were to their biological families. Hearing this news terrified them.

"Can we go see him?" asked Spyro, urgently. He needed to see if the wolf was okay. Why hadn't they told him sooner?

"Yes," answered the guardian. "I imagine he wants to see you as well. I am sorry we did not tell you. He told us that he didn't want his health to interfere with your chances at guardianship.

* * *

The couple rushed to the temple, running down the corridors, knocking into several other dragons. Eventually, they found Ardan's room. It was rather large, built for an elder dragon. However, as he was much smaller, it was like a full house to him. His large bed rested against the far wall, with a massive painting hanging above. The painting was magical, and the image of fire, ice, earth, and lightning moved in an almost hypnotizing way. Upon his bed rested the old wolf, his wife by his side. His daughter was nearly in tears, being held by her husband. Orion was silently praying by the bedside.

"Father," croaked Sorya, who buried her head into Arius' chest. He tried to remain stoic, but Spyro saw the pain in his eyes. He noticed the dragons standing in the doorway, and was about to tell them to leave. However, Ardan looked up, a small smile spreading across his face.

"Spyro," he said, in a very old voice, "Cynder. Come in." They did so, approaching the bed. The old wolf was difficult to look at, his fur nearly white and his body growing weak. Blankets covered him, but he still shivered. Safire would make him take a sip of warm water every so often, but her hands were shaking slightly.

She was almost as difficult to look at. The fur on her cheeks was stained by tears, and her eyes were bloodshot. She abruptly sobbed every few moments, her hand never leaving his. They had lived together for centuries, and she could not bear to see him like this. Slowly, the weakened wolf brought his hand up and caressed her cheek, a loving smile on his face. She held his hand against her for a moment, savoring the feeling. Eventually, he brought his hand back down, his attention turning to Spyro.

"H-hello, young one," he greeted, his voice weak. "I assume you both passed your second tests?" Spyro found it difficult to hold back his tears, and even more so to form coherent words.

"Y-yes," he croaked. "We passed." Ardan nodded, resting his head again.

"Good," he whispered, "good. Ignitus is so proud of you." His smile faded as his tone shifted. "You want to know why this is happening." Spyro nodded, and Ardan sighed. "I have lived longer than any man should. I have lived hundreds of times my normal lifespan. It has been so long that I no longer remember my age."

"Cyril says he is your senior," stated Cynder.

"I told the guardians that long ago. They only just discovered the truth. My magic has preserved my health for millennia, but even the ageless must die eventually. Nature is simply taking its course."

* * *

**CLIFFHANGER!**

**You didn't think this story would be entirely happy, did you?**


	7. Chapter 7: Visions

**Visions of the Past, Present, and Future  
**

* * *

Ardan lay in bed, his breathing labored and his eyes closed. He tried not to sleep, for fear of not waking again. Every moment was a fight to stay alive.

Suddenly, he fell unconscious. A vision of a massive, black dragon appeared before him. It was larger than Malefor by at least ten times. Its blood red eyes stared into his soul, and its growl shook the earth itself.

"Tenebrae," whispered Ardan, unable to move. He stared into the horrible, evil eyes, unable to look away. The dragon let out a malevolent chuckle as he nodded.

"Yes," he growled. "It is I." He grinned wickedly as dark flames and smoke surrounded him. "It has been far too long."

"I killed you," stated the wolf. "I watched you die. Ten thousand years ago."

"My body might be dead, but my spirit lives on. I have not come as your enemy this day, but as a messenger. I bring warning of terrible danger." Ardan was surprised. This dragon had once ruled Avalar, but was now a humble messenger?

* * *

**Ten Thousand Years Ago**

* * *

Time slowed for Ardan. Hundreds of black dragons poured from the gates, decimating the allied forces. The wolves were the first, their ranks being slaughtered by dark fire and poison. Then, the Cheetahs, whose bows and blades could not stop the onslaught of beasts. Hundreds died, leaving only Ardan and the dragons.

"Attack!" bellowed the draconic commander. Hundreds of dragons met their enemy in a bloody clash. By the time nearly both forces had been destroyed, a massive earthquake occurred. However, it had not been caused by an elemental force, nor an earth dragon.

No, it was caused by a footstep. A giant, black dragon stepped out of the gates. King Tenebrae himself, come out to succeed where his army failed. Without a word, a torrent of black fire roared from his maw, engulfing the entire battlefield. Only Ardan survived the blast, his magical shields destroyed. He locked eyes with the giant, their intense hatred for each other showing in their eyes.

"I'll fucking kill you!" bellowed the young Ardan, his spear ready. In his prime, the wolf wielded a double-ended spear made from enchanted wood. Eventually, he removed the heads and used it as a simple staff.

In order to understand what happened in this battle, you must understand something about the inhabitants of Avalar. Every sentient species, from Mole to Dragon, had the ability to channel elemental power. The dragons were the only ones who were able to use so many, but the other races, knowingly or otherwise, could use a certain type. For example, the Cheetahs had the potential to master fire, although few to none ever did and those who did never told anyone. The Moles had the power to harness earth, but their weak bodies prevented the ability from manifesting. The wolves were the only race beside the dragons to master any element, theirs being magic. This meant that, like dragons, their minds could enter a state of extreme duress, resulting in a cataclysmic channeling of power that was able to obliterate everything around them, depending on their strength and ability.

Or, as this ability is commonly called, Fury. Ardan was no exception to this rule, but his unnatural self-control often prevented him from achieving it. However, his control abandoned him as he watched his entire race die out.

He ran towards the black dragon, his eyes glowing a bright purple. He jumped nearly a hundred feet into the air, small sparks of lightning trailing him. In a deep, tripled voice, he bellowed a powerful incantation.

"Ver caz, le ven terra kor la nien vol! Le korra raz mer lak yin!" An explosion of energy shot out from the wolf, expanding quickly. He screamed as his own power tore into his skin, burning his fur and shredding his flesh. The dragon let loose a blood-curdling roar as his own body was destroyed. Slowly, the entire fortress was engulfed, raw power disintegrating it block by block. Eventually, the magic dissipated, leaving Ardan to fall.

He fell to the ground, colliding with a sickening crack. His body was broken and burnt, his skin charred and black fur gone. Bones protruded from his ruined flesh, earning a scream from the warrior as he hit the ground.

"Hel," he whispered. However, his magic did not come. "_Hel_," he repeated. All that happened was the slight jarring of one of his bones, earning another scream. A tear ran down his face as he lay, dying. The pain was unbearable, but he had to live.

Didn't he? His family was dead, and his purpose fulfilled. Couldn't he finally die in peace? He thought about all of those still alive, and a vision came to him.

_Two dragons lay side by side in a field, their lives fading, as the world falls apart around them. One is a purple male, the other a black female. He saw his own body in the background, and knew that he needed to live. He didn't understand the vision or know the dragons, but he knew it was the future he saw. He needed to survive, to stop this tragedy._

* * *

Ardan's eyes shot open, and the dragon was nowhere to be seen. It had been a dream? No, it was a memory. He understood it now, and needed to stop what was to come.

"Hel," he growled, his magic returning. For ten thousand years, he was nearly powerless. Now, in the face of doom, he returned. His body regained its vitality, his fur returning to its black shade. He stood, marveling at his old strength returned. He knew that the spell was temporary, that his time was coming, but this would do. He needed to stop what was coming.

All magic has rules. Resurrection and other such lingering spells require a constant supply of energy, which Ardan did not have. It was a miracle he was able to return life to Spyro and Cynder at all. However, one being, whose power was infinite, could do it. One being whose magic had already managed to hold the world together.

Spyro, a purple dragon. His powers ignored the rules, for the three years he was dead. However, were he to lose his life again, fate would not be so kind. He died once, and his spirit became a living magical energy, entwined with Cynder's, that maintained the world's composure for three years. When he was brought back, however, his own, infinite pools of magical energy maintained the bond.

Were he to die again, his spirit would forsake its duty, and join the ancestors. Without his spirit or magic to bind it, the world would fall apart, and Malefor would win. Ardan could not let this happen. Another vision came to him as he thought of the possibility.

* * *

**Fifteen Thousand Years Ago**

* * *

"Why must we do this?" complained a brown, female wolf. She walked alongside a tall, green male, and held her large belly in her hands. They were hiking to a large monastery.

"I'm sorry, love," replied the male. "Odds are, our pup will be no different than any of the others in the village, and we can go back home." His eyes betrayed the fact that he was afraid. Afraid to lose he son.

"And if he is different?" asked the woman. "If he is what they're looking for?" She was terrified of losing her baby, and rightly so. There are few fesrd in the world more intense than that of a mother fearing the loss of her young.

"Let's not think about that," replied the male. "We have never shown any signs of magical blessing. Why would we be the parents of a prophetic child?" His words, which would have been insulting in any other situation, were calming now. He was right. They were hardly sorcerers of legend. Simple farmers could not bear the child the monks had been waiting for for hundreds of years. However, their village valued tradition, and every couple was obligated to take their coming young the monastery.

"I hope you're right," murmured the woman as they ascended the stairs. A monk led them in, guiding them through the hallway, to a small room with a bed. He graciously bowed, and told them that the elder would be in shortly.

Once the old, grey wolf appeared, he gave a warm smile to the worried couple. He motioned for the woman to lay down, which she did. She unknowingly grasped her husband's hand, her nerved growing worse. Oh, how she feared what was to come.

"Now, let's see," he said in an wise, old voice. His hands hovered over her belly, silver clouds of magical energy surrounding them. For several moments, he laid still, until his eyes opened. He stood still, his expression shocked, until an invisible force shot him back, against the stone wall.

"By the gods!" exclaimed the malr as he rushed to the elder's side. The old man stirred slowly, a sad smile on his face.

"I am sorry," was the first thing he said. It was slowly followed by, "it is him." The man stood, water in his eyes. He walked back over to his wife, his tears telling her what she feared. She began to sob, wrapping her arms around her mate. Why were the fates so cruel, to take from them their child?

"He is due to arrive tomorrow," informed the elder. "Would you like to stay here?" The woman nodded silently, unable to speak. She painfully accepted that her child was to be taken and trained.

The night passed quickly, and the monastery was woken to the screams of the woman. Her child was due, and the pain was nearly unbearable. For what felt like forever, she suffered. All the while, her mate was by her side, clutching her hand. The monks were efficient and quick in removing the child. Eventually, the pain subsided, and she heard the little growls and coos of the infant pup. The monks wrapped him in a clean sheet, handing him to his mother. She took him, smiling sadly.

"Ardan," she whispered, happy to see her son. Her joy was replaced by grief as she realized what she needed to do. She went to hand him to the elder, who rejected it.

"We have never forced a mother to give up her child," he said. "We shall not begin now. If you two wish to live with us, with _him_, in the monastery, we would gladly have you. There is only one condition."

"What?" exclaimed the female. She would give anything to stay with her pup.

"He must not know that you are his parents. You will be able to see him and take care of him, but you must never betray the secret that he is your offspring." The couple were stunned by his words. That was asking a lot, and they thought for several moments. The pup growled softly and pulled at his mother's shirt, causing her to look down. She stared into his massive, golden eyes, and saw herself. He was beautiful, a perfect picture of all that was good in the world. She loved him with all her heart, and would not be separated from him. A tear ran down her face as she smiled.

"We'll do it," she agreed.

* * *

Ardan blinked slowly, a great realization dawning on him. Fiera and Sono, his caretakers at the monastery, were not servants like he was always told. Their love and protectiveness of him made more sense than ever as he realized the truth. They were his true parents.

"Why would I see this now?" he asked himself. "Is this fate's way of making sure I am prepared to die? After all I've sacrificed, are the gods truly rewarding me, now?" He decided not to dwell on his questions, instead turning to the door. His family was asleep, and it was very late. He rushed to the door, quickly but silently. He had to warn Spyro before it was too late.

* * *

Spyro and Cynder had a difficult time trying to get over the fact that Ardan, their friend, was dying. Eventually, their emotions got the better of them, and several things happened. I'll not go into detail (luckily, I was occupied by fate-dreams and such at the time), but suffice to say that they were laying together and panting heavily by the end.

"That was amazing," mused Cynder, her forelegs wrapped around her mate's body. She slowly traced the muscles of Spyro's shoulder with her paw, her breathing returning to normal. Yep, that had certainly done the trick. Is it not incredible what such acts can do to make one forget their problems? Why, I once...

...I had better not go into that tale.

Anyway! They were just getting comfortable when a loud rapping was heard at their door. Who would be there so late? Spyro went to get up, but Cynder pulled him back down, growling amorously. "They can wait until morning," she whispered. Spyro chuckled, before bringing her into a kiss.

Evidently, the visitor's need was rather urgent. The door shot open, its lock seemingly useless, and the intruder stepped in.

"Spyro!" shouted a loud, familiar voice. Spyro felt like he knew the tone, but could not place it. Anyway, he was too distracted by the fact that his home had just been broken into to care. He rushed downstairs, growling at the intruder.

It was Ardan. His fur was darker, his eyes golden instead of grey. He was younger than before, and could walk without his staff. Through all of these changes, Spyro knew it was him. Though a new color, the wolf's eyes held their fatherly gleam, albeit intensified by whatever urgent matter plagued his thoughts.

"A-Ardan?" asked the purple dragon. The wolf simply stepped forward, and appeared to attempt to speak. However, he clutched his throat as a searing pain moved through his body. He fell to his knees, and the dragons approached quickly to help.

"Damn it!" exclaimed the wolf, punching the floor. "It's as I feared." The dragons were confused in multiple ways, and frightened.

"What do you mean?" asked Cynder.

"Spyro, there is something I must ask you to do." The wolf seemed reluctant, and saddened. "I need to teach you something, but am bound by an unbreakable oath to only teach it to a Magic Guardian."

* * *

**More cliffhangers for ya! Although, I'm sure you know where this is going.**

**Huge thanks to Htffan951 for inspiring this twist, inadvertently!**


	8. Chapter 8: Magic

**Magic**

* * *

"In order to stop this, you must become the magic guardian." It hadn't taken long to explain the situation, but Spyro's confusion was evident. "I am sorry that this needs to happen, but you are the only being alive who can do this. Your power is keeping the world itself together as we speak, a feat that would destroy any other. If you do not take this burden from me, we will all die."

"But you look better than ever!" exclaimed the young male. "Yet you tell me that this magic is killing you?"

"I lost the majority of my power thousands of years ago. Since then, I could not perform very advanced spells, ha a very limited pool of energy, and became an observer."

"What do you mean, 'an observer?'" asked Cynder. The wolf sighed, and, instead of speaking, stepped forward and placed his paws on their foreheads. They felt a surge of power, before everything went black.

After a moment, the darkness was broken by an image. Some sort of strange creature walked before them, completely ignoring their existence. It was small and furless, unlike the cheetahs. Its face was flat, and the only hair on its body fell from the top of its head. It held a sword and shield, and appeared to be sparring with another of its kind. They were in a small ring of grass, surrounded by concrete. Around them, hundreds of their kind lived alongside massive, strange-looking dragons.

"When I was born," explained Ardan, "I was given to a monastery. The fates had decided to gift me the power of traveling. I can step from one reality to another in a heartbeat, but have not been able to interact with its inhabitants since I lost my power. For hundreds of years, I've observed the inhabitants of these worlds, hoping to eventually find a place that I can live in and interact with.

"When my race was wiped out, I was sent into a fury, which nearly killed me. I could once speak with these people, but no more. In fact, I used to be very influential among the residents of this realm."

"Where are we?" asked Spyro, fascinated with Ardan's peculiar ability.

"I'm afraid I cannot say. It was my Master's dying wish that I never reveal the other worlds. Even speaking their names to residents of other realms could bring about destruction. Were these people able to see you, we would all be dead. Safely traversing these worlds is a power only I possess." This was a lie. There were hundreds of others with this skill, some of which he knew. He was also forced to withhold the fact that, in his youth, he was able to see the future and alter any aspect of his current reality ad he saw fit.

"Why are you showing us this?" asked Cynder. She was fascinated, and honored to be shown this, but still confused.

"This is to demonstrate how far my power has fallen. Once, I could destroy this entire city in a heartbeat, not that I ever would. Now, these people cannot even see me. I was able to change my form and add a few days to my life, but I'll not be able to keep you two alive for long. I am trying to show you why you must become the Magic Guardian, Spyro."

"But I don't even know magic!" exclaimed the purple dragon. Ardan quickly repeated his movement, touching their foreheads and bringing them home.

"Then you must learn quickly. Magic is another element, like fire or wind. Purple dragons have the ability to use it, but it is not enhanced like your fire. Your spells will be just as powerful as any other novice. However, you have a massive advantage. As a purple dragon, you have an infinite store of energy, meaning that your power is limited only by your imagination." A slightly angry expression appeared on his face. "Damn it all, I should have taught you with the other guardians. My family and I were too busy fighting Malefor's forces for me to even acknowledge your existence."

"It is fine," assured Spyro. "I'm a quick learner."

* * *

"Evera köna ves konraë váka," chanted the purple dragon, causing his target stone to turn to sand, then burst into flames. Ardan whooped in pride and excitement, heartily patting Spyro on the shoulder.

"Well done!" he shouted, a smile on his face. "Well done, indeed! At this rate, you'll be a guardian in no time!" Spyro smiled back at the wolf, but it faded as he noticed an alarming amount of his fur to have turned grey. He did not have very long left. Ardan noticed this, and a fatherly gleam shone in his eyes. He placed his hands on both of the purple dragon's shoulders.

"I know what you're thinking," he said, sadly. "I wish there was a way to change the facts, but we can both see it. I am going to die, Spyro. My time is running out. I am sorry." A wiped a tear from the dragon's eye, and gave him a strong hug. "We've not known each other long, but you've been like a son to me. It has been an honor, young one." He felt the despair emanating from Spyro, and needed to help him. The poor dragon had already lost his true father, now he was losing his guardian.

"I-If I take this burden from you, can you be saved?" asked Spyro, trying to hold back his tears. He may have had the body of a strong, healthy, nineteen-year-old dragon, but his mind was much younger. He did not have the emotional control of most dragons his age.

"No, Spyro," answered the wolf. "One of the great flaws in magic is that, once committed to a lingering spell, it is impossible to break. Sadly, my energy will still go towards keeping you alive, regardless of whether or not you are the one maintaining the spell. There is no way to stop it. All we can do is work to keep you and Cynder alive." A tear of his own fell as Spyro returned the embrace, muffled sobs coming from the dragon. Ardan whispered an incantation, and soothing thoughts and images began to swim throughout Spyro's head, making him feel slightly better.

"Shall we continue?" asked Ardan, after a few moments. Spyro nodded, focusing on a tree stump for his next spell. "Remember, what you can do is only limited by your imagination. The magic you perform can have any number of effects, so you must concentrate. Try doing this next spell without a spoken incantation.

Spyro did as told, channeling his thoughts into a mental spear. He thought the words, chanting them in his head. Slowly, the spear became reality, a shimmering javelin appearing in front of him. Quickly, he willed the weapon to fly towards the stump. It did so, and imbedded itself in the wood with a satisfying 'clunk.' Before Ardan could speak, the stump erupted into a purple explosion.

"Good," muttered the wolf. "Now, let's try something else."

* * *

Cynder had decided to spend the day in the grand library, where she spent a lot of her free time, between her job and home. It was a place where she could go undisturbed, and gain knowledge that would otherwise be lost to her. After spending twelve years a slave, she had not been given the chance to learn much of anything besides how to kill.

Right now, Ardan's demonstration of his ability was at the forefront of her mind. She looked through every book, she could find, but nothing came up. She had nearly given up, when she noticed an unlit section, with tomes nearly blanketed in dust. She approached the aisle, her eyes adjusting to the dark quickly. One of the few benefits of her captivity was the near-night-vision that she had developed.

She created a small gust of wind that cleared the dust from the tomes. They were old, some ancient, but still legible. One caught her eye: "The War of Five Millennia."

She grabbed the book in her maw, careful not to damage it, and brought it over to one of the well-lit areas. The library had several places for people to read, each with a comfortable rug that softened the hard, wood floor. She lay down, placing the ancient book before herself. Eagerly, she opened it, revealing a small note.

"Those who read this will learn the terrible history of our peaceful realm. This knowledge is not to be taken lightly, as it may shatter your views of our land. Read with caution." She gulped, now unsure. After a few moments' consideration, she turned the page. Instead of normal text, there was one massive rune in the center of the page. Out of curiosity, she touched it, and instantly lost consciousness.

* * *

When the black dragoness awoke, she was standing in the middle of a small village. It was inhabited entirely by Ardan's kind, and was the perfect image of peace. Peope walked among each other, smiling and greeting each other in a manner unlike any she had ever seen. Even in Warfang, people were cautious around one another, the war having hardened them. The peaceful image made her smile, glad to see there had at least been some good in the world.

As she watched two pups wrestling in a small park, something out of the corner of her eye grabbed her attention. A young wolf walked by a younger, black dragon. They seemed to be discussing something urgent, their serious faces alien in comparison to the rest of the town.

"Damn it, Tenebrae!" exclaimed to wolf. "If you walk down this path, you walk alone."

"Why, Ardan?" asked the dragon. "You are a scholar! Aren't you at least slightly curious?"

"There are forces in this world that are not to be trifled with!" growled Ardan. "Convexity is the opposite of magic! Only venturing into is could kill us both, and have untold consequences on the world."

"My friend, other dragons have entered it and returned unscathed," stated Tenebrae.

"They were hundreds of years old! They were wiser and stronger than us! We are just entering our second centuries!"

"And you know that we're more powerful than any of them!" roared the dragon, his red eyes bright with anger. "If you won't go with me, I'll go alone!" Before Ardan could respond, Tenebrae shot into the air, vanishing from sight.

Suddenly, the scene shifted. Cynder heard a voice whisper that this was three hundred years later. This town had not lost its friendly vibe, but something seemed off. Ardan was back again, urgently speaking to an old wolf, who was likely the village elder.

Out of nowhere, a gigantic blast of dark energy shot out of the sky. Three wolves, two of them cubs, were incinerated in the blast. A group of black dragons, led by a giant male who had obviously been touched by convexity, landed in the center of town. They examined the shocked and furious crowd, before the leader threw his head back in a cackle.

"How long I've waited for this!" he laughed. "The land here is flat and advantageous. It will make the perfect spot for my city!" With a quick nod to his captain, his forces began slaughtering the helpless townsfolk. The elder tried to hide Ardan, who was too important to lose, but the wolf would not have it. He could not allow this to happen.

With a roar, he grabbed his two headed spear. In three fluid movement, two of the evil dragons fell. He growled at the leader ad his captain, assuming a combat stance.

"Tenebrae," he hissed. "You were my best friend. Why would you do this?" The dragon simply laughed again.

"Ardan! I had no idea you would be here, in the place we last saw each other. How is Alyssa? And the children?" Rage filled Ardan as he held his spear up.

"Do not bring them into this!" he growled, prompting yet another cackle.

"So you do not feel it?" asked Tenebrae. "I thought you wolves had an innate sense when your mate and children were..." Before he could finish, Ardan let loose a blood-curdling roar, rushing forward and beheading the captain. He tried to kill Tenebrae, but was thrown back by a wave of dark energy.

"Don't worry!" laughed the dragon. "On account of our old friendship, my men made their deaths quick." Ardan again tried to kill him, this time with magic intent to torture to death, but it had no effect. The dragon threw him back again. "Your power is useless on me! Convexity has made me into a god!"

Ardan slowly stood, blood dripping from his mouth. He growled, pain filling him as the sudden force had broken several ribs. His eyes nearly glowed with rage.

"You have won this day," he hissed. "But some day, one way or another, I will destroy you." With that he was gone, and Tenebrae continued his slaughter.

* * *

The vision ended, and Cynder felt the urge to vomit. That had all really happened? A part of her wanted to turn the page, but she was afraid of what she might see. Instead. She placed it in her small pack, and exited the library.


	9. Chapter 9: Hesitation

**Hesitation**

* * *

**Wow**. I've been gone for a long goddamn time. Now, I could lie and say that my spleen exploded or my favorite golden trout idol was stolen by crack-addicted lizard-monkey hybrids (the latter of which would make a kick-ass movie), but I will not. I'll be honest and say that the reason was some family trips, school, work, Dark Souls II, and my own book.

Buuuut, mainly Dark Souls. Seriously, I've never found so much joy in wanting to smash my PS3 with a sledgehammer.

Aaanyway, I'm close to wrapping this story up, and moving on. Let me know if y'all would like a sequel, a prequel, or anything else. I'm fairly happy with the world I've set up, including the wolves, Ardan, Tenebrae, etc.

Well, enjoy the chapter.

* * *

Spyro's bright, amethysts opened slowly, revealing the dim, morning sun shining through the curtains. It was very early, and for the first time in days, he had no plans. No training, no preparation, nor trial. This was a day of relaxation in prelude to the final test. However, his mind rebelled at stagnation; he needed something to do. He was content for a few days after his wedding to simply lay with Cynder, but his restlessness returned after the first two trials.

His nerves calmed as he turned to his side, looking over the black dragoness before him. He shifted closer, his chest pressing against her back as his paw trailed down her flank, eventually resting on her belly. He knew that in there, albeit repressed by magic, was his child. He nearly vibrated with the thought of being a father, enhanced by the thought of who the mother was. Truly, he had loved her long before the words exited his mouth. Often, he caught himself dreaming about her, and about their lives after the war. He would think about, if his hopes came true, a child that could result from their bond. Even when he did not know she shared his feelings, he found himself fantasizing about growing old with her, and raising a hatchling with her.

Now, not even into his second decade, his dreams were becoming reality. He would truly be the father of Cynder's child, and he would have it no other way. He rubbed her belly slowly, and felt a soft, unconscious purr of satisfaction as the dragoness snuggled back into him. At first he worried that his caress had woken her. However, the thought faded as she continued to sleep peacefully. After a moment, he continued to cuddle with his sleeping mate, resting his head above hers.

Eventually, he felt the dragoness in his arms begin to stir, but continued his motions nonetheless. She grew still for a moment, before turning her head and looking into the eyes of her mate. A wide smile spread across her face as she looked at him, bringing her paw up to caress his cheek. Without a word, their heads slowly moved towards each other , their mouths connecting in a passionate kiss. It lasted for only a moment, but it conveyed an eternity's worth of love.

"Good morning," hummed Cynder as they separated. "Did you sleep well?"

"Like a rock," answered Spyro. "Magic is tiring. Perhaps I could find a way to reduce the cost on my body, while retaining the power of the spells." He instantly began thinking of every word he knew, gaining an unexpected giggle from Cynder.

"Oh, Ancestors," she exclaimed, jokingly. "Can we just go a day without your theories or rants? I swear, you're worse than my father."

"Or maybe," mocked Spyro, "I'm just more interesting. It's not every day you're married to the incarnation of raw power." He paused for a moment, letting her soak in all of the mock vanity. Finally, he added "oh, I suppose it is."

They both looked into each other's eyes for several moments, before bursting out laughing. They laughed until their sides hurt and tears trailed down their faces. After their fits, they continued to lay in silence for several minutes. Eventually, however, they decided that it was time to get up.

* * *

"No training today?" asked Cynder, genuinely surprised. "I'd figured Ardan would be going over some insane lesson with you. Ancestors know you need even more to talk about." Spyro chuckled lightly as the statement. They had left their home and were now approaching the gate.

"Not today," answered the purple dragon. "One of the rules is that every candidate is given a day devoid of any training before the final test. He's not allowed to teach me. Plus, I think his family needs him right now more than I." Cynder nodded, her gaze moving to the gate guard's station.

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" exclaimed the dragoness with an irritation she rarely showed to most. She approached the guard, rapping his head aggressively. "Wake up, you daft bastard!"

"Wha- who- where am I? WHAT IS GOING O-" exclaimed the guard as he woke. As he regained his faculties, his eyes went wide in horror. He quickly attempted to compose himself, but ended up slipping and falling on his chest, his large helmet falling over his eyes. Cynder bent down to his level. "Sirius, I'm truly sorry that they wouldn't allow you to progress into tomorrow's competition, but it is no excuse to fall asleep on the job." Her gentle tone was different from what she always used with the guard. She really felt sorry for him.

"Of course, ma'am," he responded, solemnly. "My apologies. Won't happen again, ma'am." He went rigid, the perfect image of a gate guard. Cynder watched for a moment , before continuing her walk with Spyro.

After a few minutes, they reached their destination. A small house, owned by an older dragoness, Seia, who had lost her mate in the war. She had three young children, and was seen as one of the wiser dragons alive. She was a kind woman, and her beauty was unmatched by most. She always seemed to have helpful advice, especially for soon-to-be parents. Spyro stepped forward and knocked on the large door. After a moment, Seia opened it, a slightly surprised expression on her face.

"Spyro!" she exclaimed. "Cynder! I certainly didn't expect you today. Come in, make yourselves at home!" The couple thanked her, and entered the home. Once they were all comfortable, she waited in anticipation for their explanation.

"So, where are the kids?" asked Spyro, unsure of what to say. Nevertheless, Seia loved conversation was was more than happy to answer.

"They're outside, playing," she replied. "Tyan's been boasting about his strength again, and the others want to show him that he's wrong." Spyro nodded, a small smile flashing across his face. Tyan was one of his students, and a bit of a hothead. However, he was a good kid with the noble goal of becoming a guard.

"We're expecting a child," stated Cynder, causing Seia's jaw to drop and her eyes to go wide. Spyro was also slightly surprised at the black dragoness' bluntness, but showed no visible sign.

"Really?" exclaimed Seia. When Spyro nodded, a wide smile spread across the older dragoness' face. He could practically feel the elation emenating from her. After a few moments of surprise, she unleashed a million and six questions, each more elaborate and unintentionally intruding than the last, from names to dates. They did their best to answer, or at least refuse politely.

Eventually, Seia ran out of questions, relaxing significantly. She just smiled at the young couple, still ecstatic at their taking the ultimate step in their bond. The war had not been long ago, and its horrors were still fresh in the minds of many. It was good to see that simple goodness and love remained and flourished.

After a few more words, te couple took their leave. Just before they reached the door, the older dragoness spoke. "Cynder, Spyro!" They turned to her. "I just want you to know that this is a wonderful thing, despite what anyone might say. Do not allow anybody to tell you otherwise." Before they could ask what she meant, she receded into her home, and they reluctantly exited.

* * *

"What do you suppose she meant 'tell us otherwise?'" Asked Spyro. To his slight alarm, he looked over to see Cynder's head slumped and a sad expression on her face.

"She probably meant that people will object to me being the mother," she stated, in a depressed tone. "I knew that the horrors I wrought would not be easily forgotten, if at all." Spyro grew even more alarmed upon seeing a tear trailing down her face. She was not a dragoness who allowed herself to cry easily.

"Nonsense," he chided, gently. "No one spoke out at the wedding, why would they now?" He attempted to comfort her, but she quickly moved away.

"That's only because they were afraid! Afraid of us, and the guardians, and anyone else who an objection would offend. Were that not the case, every dragoness in the city would have spoken!" Her voice was harsh, and cracked with repressed, yet agonizing, pain. Spyro could practically feel the despair, and wanted nothing more than to help and comfort his mate.

"I would never take another dragoness, Cynder. You know that!" To his alarm, once he tried to approach again, she growled, barring her teeth. This pain went far beyond Seia's allusion. What could cause her such distress that she would react so to his gestures?

"If you knew what I've done, you wouldn't say that," she hissed. Before he could ask what she meant, the dark-scaled dragoness shot into the air, flying away almost too quickly for the eye to see. Spyro desperately followed, unable to bear the thought of her in such pain.

* * *

He had been tracking her for several leagues, far from Warfang. Using simple spells, he was able to follow the faint, dark purple trail of her aura. It took hours, but he eventually found where she was. The old Temple, now overgrown; the place she has first awaken as a free dragon. She lay in the open courtyard, eyes turned to the sky, staring into the dragonlike nebula that represented their combined energy that flowed across the world, holding it together.

He landed quietly behind her, not disturbing her silent stargazing. It alarmed him even further than before to hear muffled sobs from the dragoness, who had rarely ever allowed herself to cry. Every fiber of his being screamed to comfort her, but he restrained himself out of fear of angering her again. After a few moments, she spoke.

"I am so sorry, Spyro," she whispered, not turning. "I don't deserve to be alive, much less to have someone like you." Spyro could not take it anymore, rushing to her side.

"Never say that," he exclaimed. "Without you, I have nothing worth living for." He approached the dragoness, this time not being met by a push or growl. She allowed him to drape a wing over her, even snuggling into the grasp slightly. They lay is silence for several moments, before Spyro spoke again.

"It's not just the other females, is it?" he asked. When she looked him in the eyes, he continued. "What's really bothering you?" His voice nearly quivered as he looked into his mate's tormented eyes. It is a little known fact that dragons, a naturally magical species, experience certain... effects, upon becoming emotionally attached to another. These effects are most prominent between mates, and even more so between married couples.

The list can go on for hours, but the most prominent effects include the ability to feel each other's sensations to a certain degree (this ability, known as Vëros Mayerös, has also been known to develop between twins, military comrades, and masters/apprentices). They can also sense when the other is in danger, and can sometimes tell when they are lying. Therefor, Spyro would know if she tried to avoid the question.

She looked him in the eyes, tears falling down her face, and said it. Each word was like a stab to her chest with a poisoned dagger, for she knew that the one person she truly loved may hate her for them. Ten million thoughts raced through her mind as she spoke, each more excruciating than the last. However, once she was done, she could not help but feel a sense of relief. However, the flicker of respite was as a spark to the inferno of fear as she felt Spyro's grasp loosen and saw his eyes go wide. His jaw dropped slightly and she heard him utter an exclamation so faint, she could not make it out.

Without a word, he completely released her. Her tears poured like waterfalls as he stared through her, his expression solemn. She knew he would hate her for this, but act as if she didn't exist? It was cruel beyond imagining. She wanted to speak, but her throat locked up. She could no longer even sob. Why would he torment her so? How cou-

He kissed her. She would have been less surprised if he attacked her. However, as his mouth molded with hers, she realized the full extent of his love for her. He would look past the most terrible thing she had ever done, because he knew her. He knew that it was not truly her who had done those things. It was not her who performed the infinitely evil act she had just admitted to. It was Malefor. It had always been Malefor and he knew that nothing could change what the Terror of the Skies had done. The giant, evil, black dragon he had fought over seven years ago was dead, and this beautiful, young, pure dragoness was formed.

"I love you," he whispered, parting for only a moment. "Always remember that."

* * *

**EXPLICIT CONTENT WARNING! READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!**

* * *

To both of their surprises, the kiss grew more forceful. Suddenly, their tongues were wrestling fiercely within each other's maws, striving for dominance. Without warning, Spyro pushed his mate onto her back, pinning her forelegs under his own claws and kissing her with vigor. Suddenly, he withdrew his mouth from hers, instead moving slowly down her body. He kissed slowly, starting at the jaw, moving down the neck, chest, and ending at the abdomen. Her pregnancy was still very young, and the potion was keeping the eggs in stasis, evident in the flatness of her belly.

He continued to kiss the soft scales of her stomach, eliciting moans, gasps, and whimpers of pleasure. Within a heartbeat, he returned to her mouth, his tongue entering with no warning. Again, he held her forelegs down, which she did not mind in the slightest. In fact, his exertion of dominance was exhilarating.

The dragoness felt something poking her lower abdomen, and a faint red hue entered her cheeks. Spyro was as ready as she was, if not even more so. He lined his manhood up with her and, with unspoken - yet obvious - consent, pushed forward.

The ecstasy of contact filled them both as they let out growls and groans of pleasure, which only grew in intensity as he entered her further. Eventually, when he reached as far as possible, they looked each other in the eyes, and locked their mouths together yet again. The purple dragon adopted a rhythm of thrusting, the pleasure of friction intensifying with each movement. Eventually, their bodies were slamming together, and they were nearly screaming in pure euphoria. Their elemental powers raged around them, creating gales and small earthquakes. Luckily, no one lived within ten leagues of this temple anymore.

Eventually, the dams broke, and their climaxes rushed to meet each other even as the dragons roared in ecstasy. Truly, there was no feeling in the world to Cynder like being filled with Spyro's seed, nor was there any to Spyro than filling her. However, neither was fully satisfied. No, indeed, they were far from finished.

Again, Spyro took the initiative. After less than a minute of rest, he spun Cydner around onto her belly. She rose to her feet, and felt as Spyro stood to lean on her back, wrapping his forelegs around her torso. This was a position they'd never tried before, and neither could deny the excitement. After just a few moments, which the purple dragon spent kissing his mate's nape, they were both fully ready to continue.

Slower than before, Spyro carefully entered his mate. He was no stranger to making a fool of himself when performing a task for the first time, and new sexual acts were no exception. However, once he had entered her once more, he took on a strong rhythm even more vigorous than the last. Cynder threw herself into each thrust, not holding back her screams this time. She lowered her chest to the ground, pushing herself as hard as she could into the male atop her.

Spyro let out another roar, throwing himself into Cynder with vigor. Warmth began to emanate from his body as his inhibition lessened, his powers raging out of control.

Eventually, more quickly than before, they reached their climaxes yet again. The sensation went much longer than ever before, and their faint connection, which allowed them to feel each other's pleasure, amplified it ten-thousandfold.

* * *

**EXPLICIT CONTENT OVER**

* * *

They collapsed to the ground, Spyro wrapping his body around Cynder. They were both panting heavily, finding it difficult to breathe. Cynder nestled her head under Spyro's jaw, a smile on her face. She realized that the sun was already going down.

"Well, that certainly took a while," she hummed. "Feels like they're getting longer each time."

"No," responded Spyro. "Just better." A cold gust of evening wind brushed past, and the purple dragon willed his body to warm. Cynder snuggled even closer into his grasp upon feeling the heat. She hadn't been this close to him in what felt like an eternity, though it was truly only a few days. She realized that his muscles had become more pronounced and harder during his rigorous training with Ardan. He had never been weak, but his body had never really shown any signs of strength.

"All this training has been doing wonders," she observed, an amorous hint in her voice. She giggled lightly as the purple dragon looked down at her, raising an eyebrow.

"Are you saying that my performance was inferior before?" he asked, mock hurt in his response. Cynder laughed again, before sighing heavily. They lay in silence for a long time, before she spoke.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I don't deserve to be happy like this after doing something so terrible." Spyro's tail tightened around hers, and he looked into her eyes.

"That wasn't you," he asserted. "I know that. You should, too." He licked her snout lightly, eliciting a sad giggle from the dragoness. Despite his reassurances, she still seemed to feel like he would hate her. So, he decided to resort to his own way of proving his enduring love. Hidden in her ring was a number of enchantments that he had applied over the last two nights, while she was asleep. One of which he hoped could show her that he would always love her.

"Duvik gevik kal böd te vu," he whispered, and her ring began to glow. She jumped slightly, the sudden surge of heat coming from the little band around her wrist. She watched as the two dragons that composed the ring separated, flying to the ground. She grew even more surprised as she heard voices, hers and Spyro's, coming from them. After a few phrases, she finally realized what was happening.

The two little, metal dragons were enchanted to reenact their times together on command. Cynder realized that the scene playing out before her was when Spyro had proposed to her, one of her most cherished moments. She also understood exacty what Spyro had said, though she knew not how. 'I've given my heart to you.'

"Du sëd niren sö leheren vu."  
Another scene began to play out. When they had spoken their oaths and been bonded in the eyes of the ancestors. The phrase he spoke meant 'I shall never stop loving you.'

"Ey es du len, mör du vas fazs ek du sen."  
'And if I lie, may I be killed were I stand.' The phrase was imbued with magic, meaning that, should he be lying, he would truly die. It was a very dangerous, yet efficient, way of proving one's truthfulness. Should he even slightly disbelieve a single word he had said to her, he would die

And yet, he remained standing.

Tears came to Cynder's eyes as she smiled, barely noticing the two, miniature dragons forming around her wrist again. She quickly returned to Spyro's embrace, hugging him with renewed vigor. They lay together in silence for a long time, before Cynder spoke.

"I love you," she whispered.

"And I, you," replied Spyro.

* * *

So, I was trying to think of a way to announce my return without advancing the plot too much, so I elected to fill a chapter with feels and sex, the former of which I find much more joy in writing. But, y'know, what's better than some good, old fashioned dragon bonin'?

If you know me in real life, I never said that. If you don't, I still never said that. It was never said, damn you!

-AtHD, ArdanTheHalfDragon


	10. Chapter 10: Love and Hate

**Love and Hate**

* * *

**Things **will get a little steamy for a brief point in this chapter, but I've elected that it is far too soon for anther lemon.

* * *

Safire woke slowly, wiping the crust of sleep and tears from her bloodshot eyes. For the first time in a while, she realized just how old she was. Truly, wolves were long-lived. Nearly as long as dragons. However, being mated to one such as Ardan, an ageless, she had lived for far longer than most. However, her mate's magic had preserved them both for hundreds of years, though her to a greater extent. He had told her his tragic story many, many years ago, and she knew that, had he retained his old power, they could both live for millennia and never change. However, she did not resent him for losing it. No, she acknowledged that no being can - or should - live forever.

And now I wish it was not so, she thought, a grim chuckle in her voice. Se ha seen Ardan's death coming for decades, but it still pained her to see it in reality. Slowly, she rose from her bed (which she had taken to give Ardan room, despite his arguments), and began to fix some tea. She had the rare skill to use raw, magical energy with no words, internal or external. She simply put her hand in the little cup, and willed it to warm.

Quickly and quietly, she walked to Ardan's bed. It was dark, even for a wolf, and she had trouble seeing him. Fear gripped her as she felt for his body, only to find tossed sheets and a distinct lack of her mate. Se dropped the cup, the ht tea spilling all over the floor, and began to search frantically for Ardan. Suddenly, she heard the door open, and froze in place. Heavy footsteps approached her, and a dim light appeared above her. The glow gradually expanded, illuminating more and more of the dark room, until it revealed a face she had not seen in years.

What had been grey fur and eyes was replaced by deep, black fur and rich, golden eyes. A once frail-looking body was replaced by a strong, proud form. The wolf before her had changed in nearly every physical aspect, but his eyes - though colored differently, still shone with the love and devotion she had always seen in them.

"A-Ardan," she whispered, only now noticing the tears trailing down her lightly-furred face. Suddenly, her head felt light, and she began to wobble. She nearly fell forward, but the wolf across from her dashed forward at an incredible speed, catching her. With no warning, she grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him into a kiss. She felt infinitely younger in his arms, and even more so as her lips melded with his.

They began to grow more aggressive in their kissing, Ardan eventually lifting her up by the legs. She wrapped them around his torso, her hands moving down to his back. They continued for some time, until he carried her to their large bed, and they fell down onto it together.

* * *

It had been nearly four hours. Both wolves rested under their covers, wrapped around each other. Their magically preserved bodies had served them well, though some of the functions had inevitably ceased to work, mainly in Safire. The most notable change was that, no matter what happened, there was no possible way for this to result in a child. However, this was no source of sadness for them, as they had already had a child and accepted the change years ago.

"H-how?" asked Safire through a light shudder of pleasure. They had not done that for years, and it felt as good as, if not better than, ever before. However, despite her joy and pleasure, she could not help but question how any of this was possible. Only yesterday she had been tending to her old, dying mate. Now, he had reappeared with the body he possessed centuries ago and made love to her.

"I don't know. My old power just came back to me." He lied. Her knowing his true reasons would just put her through unnecessary pain. However, she didn't seem to wish to push the question. She simply closed her eyes, smiled, and let out a long, soft growl.

"I was so afraid that I would lose you," she whispered, her voice quivering slightly. "When your heart..." she trailed off, her sentence deteriorating into sobs. Ardan held her closer, resting his head above hers. He felt her nuzzle his neck softly, and let out a protective growl.

"It won't happen again," he whispered. "I don't care how, but I'll find a way to maintain this form. I won't put you though that fear again." He slowly rubbed her back, her light fur tickling his fingers. "I love you."

"I love you, too," whispered Safire, barely able to speak clearly. Tears rolled down her face as he promised that he would stay alive. Of everything in the world, his survival was all that she wanted.

* * *

"Again!" growled Arius. Orion focused as best he could, attempting to ignore the pain of his bruises. Staying true to the ancient fighting methods of their race, both wolves wielded staffs in place of swords or bows. Arius held a white staff carved from an ancient ash, Orion toting a brown one magically formed from the roots of nearly five-hundred unique trees.

They circled each other slowly, growling all the while. Arius, a fierce wolfborn (one born a primal wolf and reformed through magic) was naturally stronger and more aggressive than his natural son. However, he was much less skilled in the use of magic. Luckily for him, he was currently teaching Orion specifically how to fight without magic.

Orion attacked first, shooting forward with incredible speed. Bringing his staff to impact his father's head, he let loose a mighty roar in hopes that he could stun his opponent. Unfortunately, it did not work, and Arius parried the blow with little effort. The large, red wolf then brought up the other end of his staff, slamming in to his son's stomach. Orion doubled over in pain, blotches of darkness appearing in his vision. In anger at being bested again, he quickly let loose an incantation. Roots shot up out of the ground, impacting his father in the same way. The red wolf doubled over for a moment, before dashing forward and striking Orion's face with the back of his hand, knocking him over.

"Fool!" he roared. "You must learn to fight without your powers. What if you become like Ardan one day? Unable to use more than simple spells?"

"I would sooner die!" growled Orion. Aurius approached, kicking his son in the ribcage. Fire gleamed in his eyes, and small trails of smoke rose from his nostrils.

"Have you something to say, my son?" he asked in an angry, abrupt voice. "A quarrel with your grandfather?" Orion rose, blood trickling from his mouth.

"I am angry," he confessed. "Angry at him. For breaking the peace our family had. For killing himself to save two _dragons_. Has he so quickly forgotten what dragons did to us?" He tore his sleeve, revealing a long, jagged scar on his bicep. "Those _beasts_ did not deserve it. He betrayed us. Our kind."

"How dare you," growled Aurius, his hands clenched in fists of rage. "Were it not for him, our entire race would have died millennia ago. Calling him a traitor is the greatest lie i have ever heard from you."

"He may have done great things, but it does not justify him giving his life for those barbaric creatures!" Orion was shouting at the top of his lungs now, not caring who heard. Be they Ardan, Spyro, or the fucking gods and ancestors themselves.

"Where did this hate come from?" demanded Aurius. "You've been friendly to the dragons over our stay, including Spyro and Cynder."

"That is because I did not know that their return would kill my grandfather. I thought it inconsequential, and was wrong. And now that I see his blunder having caused such a tragedy, I understand. I understand it all. He is a fool."

"You dare not-"

"A FOOL! He deserved his fate!" Orion's eyes were glowing green now, and he let loose a thunderous laugh. "The truth at last! I've spent so long in the dark, and now I see light!" Aurius was taken aback.

"You've gone mad," he whispered. "You must not become the magic guardian."

"What did you say?" demanded Orion. "WHAT THE HELL DID YOU SAY!?"

"You must not become-" Aurius never finished his sentence. His own son attacked him, letting loose a complex, malevolent incantation. Luckily for him, no one was around.

Suddenly, roots sprouted from the earth, ensnaring Aurius. He roared, fire bursting from his maw, but it was in vain. Whenever he tried to burn the creeping plant, it just grew faster. A shield surrounded Orion, protecting him as well. The roots climbed higher and higher, until only Aurius' face remained. He cursed his son violently, lacing his words with magic in hopes of casting a hex. However, 'twas in vain, as he could not finish the spell before his face was encased with bark. All that remained of the pyromancer was a towering ash, with his staff imbedded in the bark.

* * *

And the plot thickens!

Shorter chapter, I know, but I hope you liked it.


	11. Chapter 11: At Long Last

**At Long Last**

* * *

"I hate speeches," grumped Ardan. To avoid questions, he had retaken his frailer form, but in appearance only. His strength remained, people around him seeing an illusion.

It was finally time. After the two trials of mind and body, the third and final test was ready. It was complex, and would take at least half a day to complete. Every contestant would be put on a team, one member from each element. They would then fight, and the last person standing would become a Guardian. However, it had been known for the final candidate to be denied, due to not "pulling their weight." The whole setup was seen as slightly barbaric for the normally peaceful dragons. However, no one could doubt that it was effective.

It was customary for the head Guardian to make a speech prior to the competition, regardless if whether or not they wanted to. Ardan sighed heavily, before standing and walking forward. Safire supported him in his slow walk, until he eventually reached the balcony. They stood in a great colosseum, built in ancient times for recreational fight tournaments. The Guardians all watched from separate balconies, Ignitus watching through Ardan's eyes. As he stopped at the edge of the balcony, a horn sounded and the entire stadium fell into silence. He waited a few moments, before finally speaking.

"For the first time in history, a great and terrible thing had happened. It is time for we, the Elder Guardians, to 'pass on the torch,' so to speak. We have all endured difficult times over the last two decades, most of us having to fight to survive. Sadly, none were left unscathed, and a great many were robbed of their lives.

"We are here not only to dictate who will succeed the Elders, but also to celebrate the lives of all those who were killed in the War. One of which is the reason any if us yet live.

"The Fire Guardian, Ignitus. The warrior, teacher, protector, and above all else, friend to us all. It was he who forged the bonds that created the Guardians. It was he who taught and saved young Spyro and Cynder, whom you all know well. It was he who, many years ago, saved me from a fate worse than death.

"So, as you all watch or fight here today, never forget that he is watching. He whom we all owe our lives." He walked back to his seat as hundreds of dragons, Cheetahs, Moles, and even Dragonflies roared and cheered behind him.

* * *

"Regardless of what happens today," whispered Spyro, "I love you."

"And I love you," replied Cynder. They went their separate ways, Cynder with Ember and Spyro with Flame. They went to opposite ends of the stadium, quickly formulating plans of attack. Luckily for them, Flame had been a general during the war, and had a great deal of experience in commanding soldiers. Regardless of any disputes between the contestants on their team, they would undoubtably have a solid strategy.

* * *

"No, no, no," said Spyro, drawing an X in the sand over Flame's arrow. "That will never work. Cynder's too fast, even for Kina." The electric dragoness in question snorted in annoyance, but nodded. No one would be able to match Cynder's speed. They would have to solve that problem quickly.

"Then why stop her before she can gain the speed?" suggested Terra, and earth dragoness. "Use a wall of fire or electricty. Something intangible, that she can't break through our outrun. Stop her before she can fight us." Spyro winced at even the suggestion of doing something that might hurt Cynder, but he agreed. Throughout the planning, they had constantly badgered him for his mate's weaknesses, which he was reluctant to give up. All they had gotten out of him thus far was her slight fear of intense light, due to having spent the majority of her life in darkness. They planned to use this, and he despised himself for speaking of it. Was this how they would need to live? Constantly protecting each other from those who would take advantage of them? The war was so much simpler!

Suddenly, a horn sounded, signaling for them to assume their positions. The stood in a phalanx, their various armors shimmering in the midday sun. Spyro could see his mate's silver armor shining, and was momentarily captivated by her graceful beauty. He quickly regained his senses, focusing on his heartbeat. He himself worse armor the color of shining gold, matching his armorlike chest scales and horns. Flame wore pitch-black armor, and Ember wore a crimson torso-piece and no helmet.

Another horn sounded, and Spyro rushed forward, singling out his opponents: the other magic candidates. There were two of them, one a wolf and one a thin, grey dragon. He was on his way to attack them, when something impacted him in the side. He was thrown to the left, dull pain exploding from his flank. He growled, vision blurred slightly, and looked to his attacker.

Of course, it was Cynder. An instinctual sense of dread overcame him at the thought of fighting her, but he pushed it aside. With a few, short words, he rendered her immobile. The spell would only last long enough for him to reach safety, and his team to stop her through other means. He turned his attention back to the enemy, and saw them fighting. Hundreds of thousands of glowing, purple beams barraged the wolf, who was protected by a constantly regrowing shield of bark. A the same time, rootlike tendrils shot from the ground, grabbing at and trying to subdue the silver magician. After a few eternal seconds, the wolf won the battle. A root too thick to be burned quickly enough slammed across his jaw, instantly knocking him unconscious. The wolf turned towards him, his eyes shining with a strange excitement. It almost resembled madness, but Spyro quickly turned aside the idea. In the times he had spoken with Orion, he was anything but mad. However, despite their budding friendship, they had to fight. They rushed towards each other, mentally speaking the incantations to disable each other.

A mental clash between magicians is a complicated matter. Unlike a physical clash, like what had just transpired, it relied on fending off each other within one's mind, instead of outside. A clash could last for hours, even days, if they were perfectly balanced. However, this battle was anything but, and Spyro quickly rendered the wolf unconscious, his sheer natural power overcoming his opponent.

With the magicians and Cynder down, the fight turned in Spyro's team's favor. For another hour, they fought, until only two were left. Unfortunately, Spyro was not one of them. A stray bolt of stone had impacted him in the head, knocking him out. He had regained his senses after a few minutes, once safely out of the arena. He watched intently, Cynder taking her seat alongside him.

The last two standing were none other than Flame and Ember. They stood across from each other, tired and nervous looking. Neither wanted to fight the other, but they had to. After several moments, they both opened their maws simultaneously, streams of fire erupting from them. The infernos collided, battling to overcome each other. Sitting next to Spyro were Flame and Ember's children, who were both in awe and terror at seeing their parents fighting. One of the younger girls had her snout buried beneath her paws and was whimpering lightly, while her older sister held her. It was a sad sight, but Spyro needed to focus on the fight. Whoever won, he needed to know any weakness they might have.

Finally, Flame's stream overcame his mate's throwing her back. It was futile, however, as they were both nearly impervious to fire. They dashed towards each other, biting and clawing to win. Their ferocity surprised everyone watching, including Spyro. It seemed evenly matched to begin with. However, as it devolved into a battle of endurance and attrition, Flame had the advantage. Slowly, he tired his mate out, before knocking her out with his tail. A thunderous roar of cheering rang through the stadium as the new Fire Guardian emerged victorious.

However, everyone was silenced as a cry of anguish rang forth from Flame. He rushed to his injured mate, frantically checking for serious injuries. Spyro could faintly hear him repeating "no," to himself, as he looked her over. However, his eyes grew wide with panic as he lifted her left wing.

Without hesitation, Spyro shot out of the stands, landing beside Flame. "What's wrong?" he asked. Luckily, hr could see Ember breathing, but it was ragged and shallow. Flame brought his attention to a deep gash in her side, crimson blood marring her shining, pink scales. Spyro cringed, finding it difficult to see one of his closest friends in such a state.

"Hel Vu." Literally, 'heal you.' A bright line of light extended from his forehead to the pink dragoness. Before their eyes, her bruises, cuts, and broken bones began to mend. However, she did not regain consciousness, and Flame grew worried.

"Is she alright?" he asked, his voice cracking slightly. He was more worried than he had ever been, and could not hide it. He was visibly shaking from the anxiety and fear.

"I believe so," replied Spyro. "She'll probably experience some deterioration, but adrenaline should still be coursing through her veins. For now, she just needs rest. Take her back home, and count yourself lucky. That was a serious wound." He didn't mean to chastise his friend, but his tone came off as more aggressive than intended. However, Flame listened without question, quickly but gently carrying her away on his back. Spyri had decided not to tell his friend just how seriously he had wounded her. Only two inches deeper, and it would have cut a hole in her lung. Such damage is nigh impossible to fix, and the only person capable of resurrection - should something go wrong - was unable to do so without killing himself.

* * *

"On to the fifth round!" ordered Ardan. The fire, electricity, water, and earth guardians had already been chosen. After the fifth round, they all recieved gems to revitalize their exhausted bodies. Each time, Spyro and Cynder had been knocked unconscious by a stray projectile or some other bad luck. It occurred ti them that, despite their talents, neither had worked with a team for years. They were perfect fighters together, but were unused to being separate and grouped with others. This frustrate them beyong belief, and they began to team up in a strange, discrete way. They worked togetger at a distance, fighting each other's opponents to avoid being eliminated. It worked relatively well, until a chunk of ice knocked Spyro into the stands. He stood, growling, and watched the fourth fight continue.

It only lasted a few minutes, with everyone but the dark candidates eliminated. Cynder hissed, her eyes narrowed, ready to fight. Suddenly , they each disappeared. Their shadow powers allowed them to become invisible, and their natural speed allowed them to fight as so. All that the spectators could see were several quick gusts of dusty air and random clashes at different parts of the arena.

Suddenly, a blood-curdling shriek shot from one of Cynder's opponents, and the third reappeared in a panic. Suddenly, the fearful one was knocked unconscious, leaving only Cynder and her last enemy. They both reappeared, growling and circling each other. A small cyclone began to circle them, growing faster and faster, picking up enough dirt and dust to completely conceal those caught within.

After nearly ten minutes of nothing but roars and the sound of heavy impacts, the tornado receded. Cynder stood above her opponent, her paw on his throat. He was limp, but still conscious, the sign of having conceded. The arena erupted into roars and cheers yet again, joined by Spyro. Cynder immediately rushed to the stands, practically tackling her mate out of his seat. Se embraced him aggressively, laughing joyfully all the while.

"I did it," she gasped, smiling wide. "I'm a guardian." Spyro caressed her cheek, not caring who saw. It was a joyous day.

"You are."

* * *

It was down to the final battle. Spyro versus two others. Only one would emerge victorious. Orion stood opposite the purple dragon, the same dark gleam in his eyes as before. The wolf chuckled sadistically, ready for the fight, though no one heard.

Ardan's voice rang out, and the three magicians let loose powerful spells directed at each other. Beams of every color laced with fire and electricity shot from each of the fighters, clashing together in a brilliant show of lights. Normally, whoever lost this clash would be killed. However, several powerful mages including Ardan had set wards over the arena, lowering the power of any attack to injure, but not easily kill.

Spyro barely won the magical clash, knocking the others from their feet. He rushed forward, intent on slamming into Orion with all his strength. However, having been tested and surprised before, he paused at the last moment, taking into consideration his strength and just how much damage an attack like that would do.

This pause was all the wolf needed to leap over Spyro, and land on top of the grey dragon. Just as Spyro turned, something about Orion was revealed. The true extent of his perviously hidden madness. He pulled the end of his staff off, revealing a long, concealed blade. With no warning, and not a sound but a brief scream from his enemy, the wolf plunged his sword into the dragon's skull. It was a quick death, but a death nonetheless. The entire stadium erupted into chaos, the grey dragon's mother and mate both screaming in terror and sorrow.

Before Spyro could react, Ardan leapt from his balcony, his body returning to a younger state. He roared, slamming his staff against the ground in rage. His senses leaving him, he charged towards the younger wolf, intent on ending his life there. Aiming for the head, he thrust his staff forward for a killing blow.

Orion parried the attack just barely, and a quick flurry of thrusts, slashed, dodges, and blocks ensued. With Ardan's experience pit against Orion's youth, it was a fairly even match. However, the battle could not last forever. Suddenly, Ardan paused, pain exploding in his joints. Fighting like this accelerated the deterioration of his spell, and his previous problems were emerging.

That pause was all that Orion needed. With three, fluid motions, the knocked the staff from Ardan's hands, slammed his own staff against his side, and, finally, thrust his sword through his grandfather's abdomen.

And, at that very moment, Spyro's control snapped.

* * *

ArdanTheWolf


	12. Chapter 12: Over

**Over**

* * *

**I am soooo sorry for the wait. **I travelled across the country (which country? You'll never know). I spent my 21'st birthday in the glorious city of Vegas (now you know my age and... the country I was speaking of... shit).

After losing my money and waking up with a terrible hangover, I returned home and was intent on writing this. Then, of course something came along. The Wolf Among Us. Upon beating that (and might I say, FUCK SNOW! FUCK TWEEDLEDEE/DUM! FUCK MARY! AND FUUUUUCK CRANE! The only characters I actually liked were Bigby, Nerissa, Colin (eventually), Holly, and her two-armed friend whose name escapes me), I went on to read the Fables comics. All of them. I have no life.

**Chapters 1-4 **have been updated. I strongly recommend rereading them.

* * *

Rain. Spyro hated the rain. It made his scales itch and his eyes burn. However, right now, he could care less about the downpour.

The guardian charm hung from his neck. He was the magic Guardian. Thought, the moment that he became it was difficult to remember. As if he even wanted to.

* * *

In one moment, Orion was there. The next, he wasn't. Spyro, in his anger, had allowed his defenses of fall, leaving him vulnerable to convexity. The darkness surrounded and filled him, giving him power he was meant to lack.

A dome of powerful wind encircled them, and rendered them unreachable and invisible. The wolf had fear in his eyes, a trait that convexity deemed pathetic. It approached him, creating an evil grin on Spyro's face. The purple dragon had no control over his body. That power was with the darkness.

"You would have been strong," said the darkness, in a terrifying, multiplied voice. "If only you had sought out the means to defeat your enemies. Now, we will aid the stronger one." Without another word, Spyro's possessed body lunged at the wolf, its claws tearing through his abdomen. He tried to scream, but it was lost in a sea of damned voices. Shadows of evil dragons spread from Spyro, tearing into and torturing Orion.

Spyro would have ended his suffering, but convexity was content to let him die slowly. After a few more moments, it grew bored with his cries of agony. Finally, it let him die, and his remains melted into the shadow. He had been absorbed into convexity.

* * *

Spyro had killed Orion. However, the dragons did not care. No one had seen his dark powers, the shield of wind too thick for vision to pierce. To them, he had simply brought justice to a murderer. Even Safire seemed to approve, though her attention had been more directed at her mortally wounded husband.

The man whose coffin was now full.

* * *

"S-Spyro," called Ardan, in a weak voice. Despite his quiet tone, the purple dragon had heard, and was immediately at his side.

"Y-Yes?" he asked, tears already in his eyes. He had lost so much, and was still being taken from. One of his few, true friends was now dying before him.

"Put this on," he weakly pointed to his amulet. Spyro did as told, gently removing it from the old wolf, and putting it around his own neck. He immediately felt a rush of power, but it was nothing compared to what was experienced next.

"Good. Now, open your eyes to the world as only the Magic Guardian can." Suddenly, Ardan placed his hand on Spyro's head. A light shone on both of them, and Spyro's eyes went wide.

Thousand of thoughts and sensations ran through his mind. Memory after memory assaulted him, until he almost forgot who he was. For the first time, he saw the world in its true form. Every living being before him was like a star. All life shone fiercely in blazing glory. Clouds of purple energy surrounded everything. The very ground itself shone like the sun.

A massive web of pure energy lay below the earth, locking everything in place. His own magical energy radiated across the world, holding it together. The wolf before him burned brighter than the sun. However, his light was rapidly fading.

Suddenly, Spyro's vision returned to normal. The thoughts and memories still filled his mind, and it would take years to understand it all.

"Spyro," whispered Ardan, looking more decrepit than ever before. "All of my power is in you, now. We are no longer tethered." He coughed, gasping for air. His wound seeped blood, and was far too terrible to heal.

"Tell me how to save you!" begged Spyro. "There has to be a way!" There was always a way. There was always something left to learn!

"There is no way," responded the old man. "Even if the wound could be healed, I am decaying. My life force is being drained as we speak, as you no doubt saw." He looked to the other wolves to his side.

"Father," sobbed Sorya.

"Child," he whispered, raising a hand to brush against her face. "You have lost a great deal. But, you must remain strong. For your mother." He looked to the older woman. Tears fell from her eyes like waterfalls.

"A-Ardan," she choked. He had never seen her so broken. "You promised, you would find a way."

"I know, my love," he said. "I wish I'd had more time." He went to brush a hand against her cheek, as he had done with Sorya, but she held it in place. She never wanted to leg go of the soft fur of his palm. Her never wanted to let go of her, either, but nature had its plan.

"Goodbye," he said, faintly. His eyes closed, for the last time. His body went slack, and it was over. He was truly dead.

"No," cried Safire. "No! NO!" She began to shake uncontrollably, and her daughter had to hold her. She began to cry hysterically, and Sorya had to remain strong. However, Spyro could see the unrelenting pain in her eyes. The wolves were broken.

* * *

It was a sad day. The high guardian had been killed by his own grandson. Orion's other victim's funeral had been the day before, and was equally painful for many. However, Spyro and Cynder had held a special bond with Ardan. He was their friend, and it was relentlessly painful to see him gone.

Surprisingly, Cyril had stepped up to speak. Of the old guardians, he seemed the most saddened by the wolf's passing. Everyone knew there was a great deal of animosity between them, and awaited his words with anticipation.

"We have come to celebrate the life of High Guardian Ardan Vahera. Many of us had spoken with the man, some more than others." He quickly shot a glance at Spyro.

"His passing is a tragedy. He and I had always been at each other's throats. I thought him my lesser, having always believed that I was his senior. Now, knowing that I could not have been more false, his death is all the more tragic. If I could, I would take back everything I've ever said about him." He went silent for several moments.

"If anyone else has anything to say, please step up." He walked away, leaving space for another. Surprisingly, the next person was Safire. Visibly shaking, she stepped in front of the crowd. Her eyes were red and puffy from tears she had run out of. In a pained voice, she began to speak.

"A-Ardan was... he was my mate. I don't know how it works for dragons, but wolves share magical bonds with their mates. He was basically the other half of his soul. To see him dead, to feel that emptiness... It is the worst I have ever felt.

"He once told me that he had another mate. Long before I was born. H-Her name was Alyssa. She and their children were hunted and murdered by an evil dragon. One called Tenebrae." The Guardians and other elder dragons visibly gasped and shuddered at the name.

"That monster was responsible for nearly wiping out my kind. He and his horde of brainwashed dragons slew hundreds of thousands.

"Then, in one action, Ardan managed to stop it all. A magical fury unlike anything in history. It nearly killed him, and destroyed the evil creatures entirely. However, he survived, but was nearly unable to perform magic and was left frail.

"That is why he was unable to stop Malefor. That is why he was unable to train the purple dragon. Many people asked him during his life. He had sworn many years ago to never again speak of the war, but I did not. I needed to tell you all this, so you are not left thinking that he was a coward." She stepped away, leaving the spot vacant.

Spyro was shocked. He had not known any great war beside the one he fought in. Cynder seemed oddly unfazed.

"Did you know about this?" he whispered.

"Yes. It was recorded in an ancient, enchanted tome. It's at home, if you'd like to see it." Spyro silently nodded, turning to see Terrador standing at the front.

"Ardan was a warrior to the end. Even in a weak body, he died fighting. He's saved the world more times than I can count. When Cyril, Volteer, Ignitus and I were young, he formed the Guardians. He was our mentor for a time." He chuckled lightly. "Many of you think I'm a hardass. You should have seen that man back in the day." Several dragons laughed quietly, including the other ex-Guardians.

"At one point, he demanded that I move a mountain. Literally. He asked me to shift a towering piece of earth. Of course, I couldn't do it. However, after spending three days straight trying, he just came up to me and said: Terrador, welcome to the Guardians.

"He had a strange way of finding the best in people. The earth Guardian has to be determined, and willing to do anything, regardless of the scale. The fire and dark Guardians must have perfect self control," he glanced at Flame and Cynder, "and so on. He knew how to judge character. An extraordinary man, to be sure." Nodding his head, he stepped away. Next, was Volteer.

"Ardan was a good friend of mine for many years. He was one of the few people who managed to keep up with my experiments. Intelligent, wise, and versed in magical theory.

"However, his mind was not all he gave us." He looked to Cynder and Spyro. "He gave me back my daughter. He gave me my son. Through some miracle, he broke through whatever barrier prevented him from performing advanced magic, and resurrected two of our heroes." For the first time, Volteer did not know what to say. He just whispered something unintelligible, and walked away.

No one else stepped forward. His wife had been reduced to fits of sobbing. Her daughter stayed by her side. The Guardians had already spoken. Only two others had been in any way close to the old wolf. Spyro stepped up, turning to the crowd.

"He was... one of my best friends," stated the purple dragon. "I didn't know him for long, but he taught me more than I thought possible. I doubt I'll ever be able to make sense of all of it, even if I spend every moment trying.

"I can, however, say one thing with absolute certainty. That man understood things that none of us ever will. He knew the answers to questions that keep us awake at night. Even now, looking upon all of you, I am using the gifts he gave me. I can see the life inside all people. I can see the networks of energy that bind all life together.

"Ardan and I were similar in many ways. He was a prophesized 'perfect being' to his people. The purple dragons are somewhat similar: powerful creatures destined to achieve great things. Neither of us had ever really wanted these titles or expectations. Neither of us had known our families until it was too late." His glace shot to Cynder. Her belly had rounded slightly, as the potion wore off and allowed the egg to form. Then, he looked to Safire and Sorya.

"We both took a great deal from the world. But, we both managed to give something back. We both took and created life. He breathed life into both myself and Cynder, and gave us the chance to live as we never dreamed. Hopefully, I can live up to him. As his student, and successor." His eyes glowed bright purple as he finished speaking, slightly startling those who saw. Suddenly, a vision flashed before him.

* * *

_"Spyro," whispered an ethereal, dragonlike being. "Your life will be long, but it will end one day. Always remember this." Several dragons surrounded the one female, nodding in unison._

* * *

**Nine Months Later**

* * *

"Fuck!" shouted Spyro. "Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck! I promised her I'd be there when it happened! Step out for ten fucking minutes!" He sprinted down the street, completely forgetting that he had wings. If Ember's little girl hadn't found him and passed the news... he just hoped he wasn't too late. The egg was due to hatch today, at the latest. Now, it was about to happen without him! Fuck!

Bursting through the doors, he practically leapt down the stairs to the nursery he had built. Ember was there, alongside her youngest, bluest daughter and Cynder. The egg that held his own child was mostly intact, with a gigantic crack running straight down the middle. He approached it silently, inwardly ecstatic that it hadn't hatched in his absence. Cynder, after a brief moment of annoyance, smiled warmly at him.

Joining her, he watched the egg continue to crack. Suddenly, a sizable chunk of the shell popped off, removed by a tint, grey foreleg. It didn't take long for the rest of the egg to fall apart, leaving a bewildered hatchling. It looked around wildly, massive, cyan eyes filled with every emotion. Its eyes finally settled on its parents, and it calmed considerably.

However, once Ember began to test it for medical problems, it started crying. Loudly. Spyro hated the sound, and knowing that the distressed child was his own made it infinitely worse. However, Cynder was obviously more pained about it than him, barely holding herself back from running to her distressed child.

Suddenly, a bright flash of light erupted from the hatchling. Ember jumper back, surprised. So, a baby energy dragons. An extremely rare breed, able to manipulate raw energy of various types, from heat to plasma. Of course, this was already evident by the grey scales and blue eyes, neither of which her parents possessed.

"Looks like you have a healthy little girl," she stated, beaming at the new parents.

"Don't elemental powers start developing at twelve?" asked Spyro, having noticed the burst of energy from his daughter.

"Don't worry, Spyro," assured the pink dragoness, "that burst was perfectly normal. Hatchlings almost always do such shortly after hatching." After a brief pause, she continued.

"She's an energy dragon. That's why she doesn't share your scales, Cynder, or either of your eyes. This makes her extremely powerful, and I have the utmost confidence that you'll both work to teach her to control and be responsible with her abilities."

"Of course," stated Cynder, her speech rushed. "Can you give her here, now?" Ember nodded, allowing Cynder to step closer to her child. For a moment, the infant was, at first, very cautious. Then, she closed the gap between herself and her mother, rubbing against the large dragoness' foreleg.

Spyro approached by his mate's side, smiling widely. The hatchling immediately warmed up to her father, cooing and rubbing against him in a similar fashion.

"Hey there, baby girl," he whispered , bringing his head down to her level. She looked up to him with her massive eyes, curiosity shining.

"I don't suppose we can settle on a name, now?" asked Cynder, bringing her head next to his.

"I think so," responded Spyro.

In one of the history lessons with Cyril, years ago, Spyro had learned about an extraordinary dragoness. One who had bridged the gaps between entire civilizations, and started the first true golden age in history.

An energy dragoness, named:

"Io." (eye-oh)

"Io?" repeated Cynder. "As in the first queen of the dragons?"

"The very same." He smiled down at his daughter, licking the side of her tiny head. She gurgled, pawing at his snout lightly.

"A fine name," responded Cynder. She looked the little dragoness in the eyes.

"Welcome to the world, Io."

* * *

**Holy WOW!** It's over! It's actually over!

Now for the sequel.

Hope you enjoyed the ride, no matter how short it was. I sure loved writing it!

See you next time!


	13. I Yet Live

**I don't like doing this, but it's my only way of really talking to you all. And, since this is my most followed story, I'm using this one.**

**First, I'm not dead. Yay.**

**Second, I refuse to give up on my stories. I've been out of the game for a while, but I'm not out.**

**Third, I've hit a MAJOR writer's block on Convexity. I know where I'm going, but not how to get there. Any assistance would be appreciated.**

**Fourth, please don't hate me for my absence. I know it was wrong to leave without a word, but I went through some life changing shit.**


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